#32

#32. We have many CD's in our home which we play a lot. The latest one is a renewed version of music sung by the Mennonite Hour Chorus many, many years ago. Mennonite Media has done a very good job in taking the old recordings and making good quality CD's from them.

The latest one we have is entitled, "All Nature Sings," a compilation of hymns from various seasons and with several different groups from The Mennonite Hour. The hymn, Eternal Father, began playing this morning, and immediately the number 32 came into my mind. Also immediately I blurted out, "#32, let's sing #32, Eternal Father." Then I began to wonder, what song book was that in? And again immediately it came to my mind, the old black Church Hymnal. And so I asked my wife, do we still have one of the old black Church Hymnals. She said, yes, its up on top of the cupboards under that old lunch box. So I got the kitchen stool and looked. Sure enough there was the dusty hymnal. I looked at number 32, and guess what, it was "Eternal Father, when to thee, beyond all worlds by faith I soar . . . ." I was almost awestruck to think that after all these years, who knows how many, my old, forgetful mind, could recall something like this.

I began leading congregational singing in our church when I was 16 years old. I don't know how many years I led singing, but quite a few. Nor do I know how many times I led #32 in Church Hymnal, but many, many times. It was one of my favorites back then, and still is. It is amazing that a number like that can pop up from nowhere in one's mind.

All of which says something about the importance of learning the right things in our early years. The hymns which we sang when we were young, and also as our children were growing up, somehow have made indelible impressions in our brains, which under the right circumstances, can be brought up after long years of absence from our consciousness. Our children attest to that. Most of them do not attend churches where very many hymns are sung, if at all, but they can still sing them when we get together as a family.

Music has always been a part of my life, both in my home and in church, and I hope it always will be. The music sung in our churches today is all good music, for the most part, but I miss the hymns when we don't sing them. I have learned through the years to enjoy many different kinds of music, some which I get tired of quickly, but I never tire of the old hymns. There just seems to be something about the words and music that have endured through the years that touches my soul in a deeper way. I often wonder what music our grandchildren will have in their memories when they get older. I hope its something that will bring inspiration and hope to their souls like #32, and others, have to mine.

Pilgrim on the way

Hands

Hands! These hands belong to my wife and her three sisters. Actually they had this picture taken to show off their newly done finger nails. Unfortunately the nails didn't show up too well, but my oh my, the hands sure did. Makes an interesting picture.

One wonders as you look at persons hands what all those hands have done. Our hands help us do about everything don't they. I can't imagine what I would do without even part of one hand, let alone with only one hand. One hand isn't enough to do most of the things we do - it takes two.

These are the hands of a 95 year old woman - my wife's mother. What beautiful hands! Fingers so straight, nails so nice! And after giving birth to nine children, raising to adulthood seven of those nine, doing all the things a mother needed to do to do all of that. Her life was not easy at times, and having been born in an Amish home, she had a lot of work to do even as a child, most things done "by hand," as we say. And still having such nice hands! She was so blessed, and in her blessing, blessed many, many people in her life.

I'm not sure I would want a picture of my hands, at least not put on the internet. I recall looking at and touching my father's hands as his body was lying in the casket. I thought, boy, I sure hope my hands never look like that. Guess what - I think my hands already look like his did, and I have a way to go to be as old as he was when he died.

But my hands still work fairly well. Oh, they're not as good at doing some things as they used be, they get cramps in them a lot when I'm working at certain things, but for the most part they're still very usable. When my father was teaching me how to do carpentry, he said that I needed to be able to draw a line on a board and split the line with my hand saw. That takes very steady hands, but after a lot of practice I was able to do pretty good with that. But not anymore. One's whole body needs to cooperate for the hands to do something like that and mine doesn't anymore.

How about your hands? Not only how do they look, but what do they speak to you now? Our hands do tell a story you know. Even though Mom's hands looked so very good at age 95, they still told a story of a lot of hard work through the years. Most hands will tell a story of some kind - perhaps a finger or two is missing from an accident, perhaps some fingers are crooked from arthritis, perhaps some nails have been infected by psoriasis or some other disease. Or perhaps like mine, some will simply show signs of aging, like the veins showing through the thin skin, raised knuckles from arthritis, etc., or whatever aging does to ones hands.

I think of Jesus' hands - He used them to bless many people, and in his crucifixion his hands were pierced through with nails. After His resurrection He used his nail-scarred hands to prove His identity to His disciples. Jesus' hands were very special hands.

Granted these words are somewhat rambling, but I look at my hands a lot, have to you know, and while I'm not excited about what I see, I'm very glad that I still have them and they are in working order. Hopefully that will continue. I want to bless others by the work and touch of my hands. Hopefully you will too.

Pilgrim on the way

Pilgrim's Progress

If you have been reading my posts on this blogsite you will know that I have always signed my posts "Pilgrim on the way." That represents my view of what following Jesus in life means.

Last week as I was thinking about something to do to pass the time on a Saturday afternoon I decided to look at a video tape of Pilgrim's Progress, a story that I studied in depth with our small congregation in another state many years ago. We used a contemporary version, paper back book, and discussed it with the adult Sunday School classes meeting in the church sanctuary. When we were finished there just happened to be a public stage presentation of Pilgrim's Progress nearby, which we attended as a church. It was so exciting and meaningful to be able to see live actors acting out what we had just spent a number of weeks studying.

Now I don't know if you have ever read this book or not, or if you have an opinion of this story or not, but simply put, I think it gives a good representation, although its not a theological one, of what it means to follow Jesus. Pilgrim (Christian) comes to the cross, loses the burden on his back, and then makes his way over difficult paths to the celestial city.

Watching this video again gave me a renewed sense of its worth in communicating the very simple, yet profound truth what it means to follow Christ in life. The path is often filled with difficult and trying experiences to be sure. And yet there is always provided a way back to the pathway.

I recommend this story in either book or video (DVD) form. It helps one better understand that becoming a Christian, and remaining one, is not as easy as repeating a short, simple prayer.

And therefore, I remain

Pilgrim on the way

Inauguration Day 2009

January 20, 2009, the day we saw the 44th President of the United States inaugurated. It was indeed an historic day for this country. In my lifetime I have lived through the change that has brought people from the African-American community through social changes kept them from entering restaurants, using public restrooms, riding on public transportation, etc. to one from that community becoming President of the United States. That makes it historic in my way of thinking.

For me it was exciting and a day of intrigue. It was exciting to see Barack Obama take the oath of office. It was interesting to say the least to see the throngs of people trying to catch a glimpse of the new President and his wife. I even found myself interested in watching the events at the balls held in the evening.

Obviously much of the excitement of the day had to do with Barack Obama becoming the first non-white President. While obviously not all of the non-white community voted for Obama, it was for most of them a moment to be remembered and cherished. For many Americans it was an historic day that represents the hope that someday we will be able to move past the racism in this country that has created so many social ills and that still to some extent motivates people to commit deplorable acts.

And so whether or not one is aligned with Obama's political agenda, change has come to this country. It remains to be seen if this change will result in more changes that are desperately needed or not. We who are citizens of this nation are the ones who will determine what the long term effects of this change will be.

Having said all of the above, I must conclude by asserting my true allegience. While I engage to a small degree in the affairs of our country as a citizen, my first and primary citizenship is in God's Kingdom where Jesus is King. Living in this reality identifies me, in the words of Scripture, as an alien, a pilgrim and a stranger, and one without an enduring city, but one who seeks the city that is to come. For me that colors all that I do in my relationship to this earthly kingdom.

And so it is that I remain

Pilgrim on the way

The Little Wood Shoppe

(the picture on the left is not the little wood shoppe)

Perhaps you didn't read the title of this post? I invite you to glance up at it and notice especially the word "little," because that's what this shop is. The whole "building" this shop is located in is approximately 4' x 8' when its completely empty. Before I transformed it into a wood shop it had built in shelves on both ends that were about 12" wide leaving the actual floor space at about 6.' The walls were open studs so in order to make it possible to work there in the cold weather I dug out some discarded insulation from the dumpster that was put there by workers who are doing some remodeling on the Villa main building. I found enough to adequately insulate the whole thing. Then I purchased some cheap paneling to cover the walls and keep the insulation in place. Doesn't really look too bad.

In transforming this space into a wood shop I extended one of the shelves on one end about 4" or so and on the other end about 3." Somehow this isn't coming out quite right as I now have about 5' of floor space that way. Then in between two shelves on either side I built in a shelf across the back of the space to give me a place to put some power equipment that I wanted to purchase. And so I ended up with a workspace of approximately 3' x 5', a small work shop to be sure.

After building some drawers under one of the shelves, covering all the workspace with some nice plywood, I painted the work table to make it easier to keep clean. I hung up or found a place to put all my hand tools in an an orderly, easily accessible place, and I was ready for some power tools. (I'm sure you guys are really interested in this, huh).

I had decided that my chief hobby products would be those I could do on a lathe sitting down. I fixed a metal stool with casters to roll around for that purpose. I purchased a mini lathe, a small disc/belt sander, and a mini table saw (this thing almost looks like a toy). I have them all arranged on the work table and have a small work bench left on one end. I think its all pretty neat. The tools are all in working order and I have used them all.

I have now finished my first pen and pencil set made from osage orange wood, better known as hedge wood. I will keep this first pen and Clara will keep the first pencil. Hopefully I will be able to make many more. I have enough pieces cut to make quite a few pens and pencils. I will also be making other things of course, some on the lathe, some not. A small wood train is in the offing for a relative.

So that's what The Little Wood Shoppe is about. Perhaps you will hear more about what's going on out there in another post in the near future, which I hope can include some pictures of products and the shop itself. Until then I remain

Pilgrim on the way

The King Family History

These pictures are of me, my father, Henry J. King, and his father, Christian K. King. We Kings are descendants of Samuel Koenig, whose name was later changed to King.

H. Harold Hartzler compiled a two volume account of the descendants of Samuel Koenig. While I respect Hartzler for his work in a very difficult task, two things make these books very difficult to like. First, the numbering system he used to identify the people he included is at best a very difficult system to use. While he offers an explanation of how the system works, it is still very hard to make sense of. Second, he has many people set in the wrong family, with my some of my siblings included in that. Finding one's siblings listed in someone else's family throws the whole thing out of kilter, killing the desire to use the books at all.

I want to illustrate the numbering system Hartzler used for clarification of this dilemna. To do this I will quote from the Introduction, Volume 1: "I am using a numbering system based on the order of birth of the children. Thus the number 5-4-2 designates the second child of the fourth child of the fifth child of the immigrant Samuel Koenig. . . . . .I will illustrate this system with my own number: 212191. Thus I am the first child of the ninth child, of the first child, of the second child, of the first child of the second child of the immigrant. I now illustrate by combining names with numbers beginning with my father John M. Hartzler #2-1-2-1-9, who was the ninth child of Barbara King #2-1-2-1, who was the first child of Jacob L. King #2-1-2, who was the second child of John King #2-1, who was the first child of Jacob King #2, who was the second child of the immigrant Samuel
Koenig."

Did you follow all that? Every person listed in these two volumes is done in that fashion. And so you have page after page of paragraphs of numbers based on the child of so and so, who is the child of so and so, etc. Fortunately Hartzler has an alphabetical index of names with their corresponding number making it possible to find people that way. For the record my number is 2-3-7-5-1-6, making me the sixth child of Henry King, the first child of Christian K. King, the fifth child of Christian S. King, the seventh child of Samuel King, the third child of Jacob King, the second child of the immigrant Samuel Koenig. Now you know my pedigree.

One of my cousins gave me this set of books last week, and at first look I wondered why I had said I would like them. But I suppose when I get older and wiser I'll be glad I have them. They're something I can always pass on to the next generation, providing someone will want the books.

These people were probably not all "pilgrims on the way" but many of them were, as I remain a

Pilgrim on the way

Winter

I don't really like winter very much - never have and probably never will. If I had my "druthers" I'd rather go to a warm climate in the winter time, but certain things prohibit that at this time.

Having said that, I would have to admit that our first four winters here in Kansas haven't been all that bad, considering that the snow fall has not been extreme, and while it has been quite cold at times, it usually doesn't last all that long. And when one compares the weather we have here with some other places in the country, we as a rule have it pretty good here. Some of our family still live in Ohio, where we lived for nine years, and the winters there can be somewhat difficult to endure at times.

What don't I like about winter? Well for one thing I'm usually cold, no matter where I am. And from what I hear we keep our thermostat turned higher than some around here. I like going to bed for one reason at least and that is that I can usually keep warm in bed. If I can't that's my fault. Also I don't like having ice and/or snow under my feet or wheels. That doesn't happen too much anymore as our walks, driveway and streets are usually kept fairly clear of the slick elements. And I don't like the really cold temperatures - it makes the heat pump run constantly, running up the heat bill, and it mostly keeps me inside the house. That gives me what they call cabin fever.

What do I like about winter? Well, not a whole lot, but for one thing, freshly fallen snow is pretty from inside the windows. When its very cold it sparkles with little icy crystals. And clear nights when its cold just seem to reflect a little more of the glory of God when one stares at the night sky. We used to have a fireplace in other places we've lived and that was always nice to have going when it was cold outside.

All in all I guess its not too bad here in the winter, but sometime it might be nice to spend the winter in a warm climate like Arizona like many folks do. And we do have family there too. Perhaps that will happen sometime, perhaps not. I guess we'll see. Until we see, or whenever, I remain

Pilgrim on the way