SPITTING SEEDS OR SPLITTING HAIRS

Who does not love watermelon? Now don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the new seedless variety, but they are not nearly as much fun. “How so,” you ask?

Well I must have been about 3 years and 9 months old, and we were living in Bob Jones old rent house just south of Alpena, Arkansas. It was one of those old houses that had what old timers called a “Dog Run.” The house had two large rooms. One room was the kitchen, dining room, storage etc. The other room was the living room/bedroom area. Between these two large rooms was a large open hallway. That is, a hall that separated the two rooms but it was not enclosed on either end. In this house the front of the large hall was a banister overlooking the front yard, and at the back were stairs that lead into the back yard.

In those days, eating watermelon came with four rules. 1) Always eat it outside 2) Get it all over your face 3) put a dash of salt on it, and finally 4) spit the seeds as far as you could. I remember once when Grandpa and Grandma Roberts were visiting, along with Jerry and Elmer my uncles who still lived with them. Being in the summer time, after dinner (what some folks call lunch), we assembled in the front of the “Dog Run” and ate watermelon. The seed spitting part became a game, and each of us tried to out spit the other. No records were kept, so I don’t remember who won the contest. Had we kept records, it might have become an Olympic sport by now. While we were spitting seeds the grown-ups we talking. As I recall, they just seemed to talk over and over about the same thing. At least that is how I remember it. It seemed to me, upon later reflection, they were trying to say the same thing in as many different ways as possible. I learned later to call that “splitting hairs.”

Lesson: As far as I can determine there was nothing useful that resulted in all the hair splitting. But the watermelon seed spitting was a different story. Next spring there was a bunch of watermelon vines that sprang up in the front yard. So if you want a harvest of anything you have to spit (sow) the seed. Christ gave a parable of the sower and seed.

In Matthew Chapter 13 Jesus explains it this way 18 “Therefore hear the parable of the sower: 19 When anyone hears the word of the kingdom, and does not understand it, then the wicked one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is he who received seed by the wayside. 20 But he who received the seed on stony places, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; 21 yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while. For when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he stumbles. 22 Now he who received seed among the thorns is he who hears the word, and the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful. 23 But he who received seed on the good ground is he who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and produces: some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.”


If you and I expect to bear fruit (another believer) we must be busy spitting the seed of the Gospel. It is not a contest, but if we are engaged in the process we are all winners

THE MYSTERY OF LIFE

It was on an unusually warm day for January in the Ozarks…January 25th 1950 to be exact. I had just turned four in September of 1949. My family was living south of Alpena, Arkansas in a flagstone house we were renting from Chester Presley. A few hundred yards north down the gravel road lived Jimmy and Cordie Mills. I thought they were ancient at the time, but I am sure they were probably no more than 50 something.

As I recall, it was in the morning we had a visit from our family doctor, Doc McCurry, who had an office in Green Forest. Oh yes, doctors did make house calls in those days. It was this doctor my dad told me many times a story concerning him. It seemed that he was visited at his office by a man who had a bad case of hiccups. In fact he had been hiccupping for 24 hours. Well, Doc asked the man to stick out his tongue and as he did Doc grabbed it with his hand. He would not let go and according to the man he thought doc was going to pull it out by the roots. Along with the man’s verbal expression of disdain for such an unorthodox treatment, he gave the doc a “blue streak” of curse words and left the office in a huff. About two hours later the man returned and apologized to the Doc because his hiccups were gone. I do not think he learned that particular treatment in medical school. I guess it was that sort of thing that endeared our family to Doc McCurry so much. The other reason was that he really did care for his patients.

Now back to my main story… I was extremely curious as to why I was told by mom and dad that I had to go stay with the Mill’s down the road for the rest of the day. Not that I minded it, it was just something that never happened. There was a mystery here. I cannot remember if dad drove me down to the Mills, or I walked. I think I walked while dad stood in the yard and made sure I arrived safely. Another strange thing was that Jimmy and Cordie were waiting on me. We had no phone in those days, so how did the Mill’s know I was coming?

Now Jimmy and Cordie were some of my favorite people. Jimmy had a rather large stomach and when we would all go to Long Creek to swim he could float on his back for what seemed like hours. Sometimes all you could see was his face and his large round belly. I thought it is was funny. What endeared me to Cordie was that she was always giving me gum, or a piece of candy, or something else a little boy thought was grand. One day after our family had visited the Mill’s and were preparing to leave, I spoke up and asked, “Cordie, you got anything else you want to give me?” Mom grabbed my arm and we all made a hasty exit. When we got into our car, a ’37 Ford coupe, I got the lecture of my life. “You don’t every do that again,” mom said with sternness in her voice. “Do what?” I ask. I had already learned to use the “I’m innocent because I have no idea what you are talking about” routine. It did not work this time. My dad said, “Ask for a handout, it is rude and impolite.” Now in my defense, I remember saying something to the effect, “well she had given me a piece of gum and I just did not want her to forget, in case she had planned to give me something else.” Well, prosecution (1), defense (0)… I was just grateful that I did not get any more than a tongue lashing.

Now back to the main story or I will never get through. I do have more to say about the Mill’s but I must save that for a later time. Just before dark, dad came to pick me up and take me home. When I walked in I saw a sight that blew my young mind clean away. There was mom in bed, in the living room, where it had been before, but this time she was holding something tiny and pink. It was my new baby sister. They would call her Anna Sue.

Now the mystery of it is, where did she come from? Why did I have to stay the day at the Mills? What did Doc McCurry have to do with all this? And why did I not know it was going to happen? I grew up on a farm and it did not take a genius to figure out where newborns came from. I learned that as I got older. I do not seem to remember my mother’s body changing in any particular way. She mostly wore loose fitting cloths, so I would not have noticed a bulging belly.

As I think back on the whole affair, I think that my mom and dad handled it just right. I was not ready for a complete course in human reproduction. I was not ready for a sex education course. The mystery of it was part of the excitement about it all. I soon forgot my questions and just settled in to get acquainted with my new sister. By the way, I think it is a crime to try to take the mystery out of life. We might answer the questions about the physical and human participation in the beginning of life, but no one has answered all the questions about how life really begins. Mysteries are mysteries for a reason. A child needs to deal with mystery… it is part of our existence that makes life what is. This whole sex education thing we deal with today is way out of balance.

Most of the problem could be solved with a parent reading to a child some special portions of Scripture. Here is a case in point:

Psalm 139:13-16 Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day. (THE MESSAGE)


LESSON: SEX/REPRODUCTION IS ONE OF THE MOST WONDERFUL GIFTS GOD HAS GIVEN US. WE CANNOT IMPROVE UPON IT. WE CANNOT REDESIGN IT, AND IF WE TRY TO WE DO SO AT OUR ON PERIL. WE MUST REMEMBER THE WORDS TO THE HYMN, "THIS IS MY FATHER'S WORLD." WHEN WE TRY TO INTERFERE WITH GOD'S PLAN AND GOD'S TIMING WE GET EVERYTHING MESSED UP. ENJOY THE MYSTERY OF IT AND ENJOY IT. FOR YOUNG PARENTS, DO NOT TRY TO RUSH TO TAKE AWAY SOME OF THE MYSTERY. GOD WILL GUIDE YOU AT THE APPROPRIATE TIME AND IN THE APPROPRIATE WAY. ABOVE ALL, USE THE BIBLE AND GIVE GLORY TO GOD.

THE OLD SOW AND THE BOTTLE

Memories are only useful if we re-member… That is, re-live the memories. As we get older we increasingly like to re-live some past event or personal experience. The problem is we are apt to embellish the memory until we forget where fact separates from fancy. Be that as it may, I think it is just fine to embellish a little if it helps to get across the essence of the real experience. Now the reason I am talking so philosophically is because I have a desire to blog about such experiences, and I want you to know ahead of time that I cannot swear that all things happened exactly as I recall them. So, here goes the first one.

I must have been somewhat beyond my second year of life, and still enjoying the bottle. I seem to recall we were living on what I later learned was referred to as the "Higgered place." We had moved from McAlester, OK when I was about a year old, after dad was discharged from the army. I think this was our first house after moving back to Arkansas. We had a Hog, a sow to be exact. I do not know if mom and dad were going to raise pigs or were fattening this one out to butcher.

Now back to the important part. My mom was apparently trying to find a way to wean me from the bottle. She had not succeeded. Even back then I had a stubborn streak. Well one day we had a visit from Aunt Ethel, my dad’s oldest sister. Ethel lived by the notion that it is often easier to get forgiveness than permission. And she never met a situation she was unwilling to plow into head first. Were mom had failed to succeed in solving my bottle problem, Ethel waded right in and used her unorthodox approach.

I was apparently running around in the yard, screaming for my bottle. Just then, Ethel’s mental acumen came to the surface as she turned to me and said in a dramatic voice (at least that is the way I remember it), “THE OLD SOW ATE YOUR BOTTLE!” Well admittedly I was not yet well trained in problem solving, but intuitively I knew that I was no match for that sow. I remember climbing up on the wooden planks that were part of the pig sty, and did my best to communicate with that sow. I was not very good yet at English and even worse at speaking “pigese.” I never even entertained the notion that Ethel might be just fibbing to me. So I finally accepted what seemed to be the inevitable. That sow had eaten my bottle and I had no spare.

It was my first experience at having to deal with disappointment. But from that time until now I have learned that dis-appointment can be the necessary step to an appointment that will make me more mature. I learned to drink from a cup.

LESSON: TAKE AWAY THE “DIS” FROM DISAPPOINTMENT AND YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH SOMETHING BETTER. GOD IS EVEN IN CONTROLL OF WHAT SEEMS TO US A SMALL THING. THAT SOW AND THE BOTTLE AFFAIR WAS NO SMALL THING TO ME AT THE TIME, BUT SINCE, I HAVE LEARNED THERE ARE MANY THINGS I HAVE TO GIVE UP TO FIND THAT WHICH IS MUCH BETTER AND RICHER, AND BLESSED BY GOD.

Paul said in Phil 4:11I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13I can do everything through him who gives me strength.