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November '14

"Then he taught them many things by using stories. He said:

'A farmer went out to scatter seed in a field. While the farmer was scattering the seed, some of it fell along the road and was eaten by birds. Other seeds fell on thin, rocky ground and quickly started growing because the soil wasn’t very deep. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched and dried up, because they did not have enough roots. Some other seeds fell where thornbushes grew up and choked the plants. But a few seeds did fall on good ground where the plants produced a hundred or sixty or thirty times as much as was scattered. If you have ears, pay attention!'"

—Matthew 13:3-9 (CEV)

Reflection:

Recently, I had the heart-warming privilege of visiting Williamstown, KS ("Bill Town" as referred to by the locals). Back in 1947, as a young newlywed, my father was the pastor of the only church in this community of a mere three blocks. Dad reached out to every resident in that rural community, and beyond. He and my mother lived in a drafty, old house on the outskirts of town—I've learned more by reading my mother's diary of those years—and were paid with chickens and occasional bags of groceries. They struggled to make ends meet and to put enough food on the table, and my mother wrote in her daily journal: "This house is a house of prayer," which indicates their never-wavering trust in God's ability to supply their most basic needs. And, He did!

While I was there a few weeks ago, I believe I found the old house where they lived, and also happily discovered a thriving congregation there....AND a rather large attendance at the Cowboy Church just around the corner. What a joy to learn that the seeds my father sowed are continuously springing forth for God's glory.

I'm thanking God for the ministerial call on Daddy's life (he would have celebrated 89 years this month)...and for his answering that precious call here on earth. As well as when God called him Home last January 9th.

What are you most thankful for this Thanksgiving season, dear reader-friend?

Abundant blessings,

Beverly Lewis