Treasures, appointments, divine appointments

Mama and I had a pleasant evening last night. It is always a little bit of a rush to get ready for church after the evening chores are done but we made it through everything with time to spare. When we got to the church, fifteen minutes early, we were the first car in the lot. It filled up quickly after that but it always gives the feeling that we missed the memo that the services time was changed.


On the way to church Cori called to tell us about a moment with Grant. While they were eating dinner he pulled a rusty old bolt out of his pocket – a memento from the farm. Cori asked him about his treasure, “What is that?” “A tool; Papi said we could keep all the brown ones.” “He did, did he?” “Yeah, we found some silver ones but Papi didn’t let us keep those.” She was amused by the matter-of-fact nature of his answers.

This is the rest of the story. I am building the shop and apartment in the same area that Mr. Vanbebber had built a shop. The entire building except the pipes that formed the frame of that structure had been ransacked over the years – we will never know by whom. In his old shop he had done a lot of engine repair work as well as work on every piece of equipment on the farm. In the process he gathered an impressive stockpile of nuts and bolts of every size imaginable.

Grandpa and I threw away the majority of that treasure trove because, like Grants little treasure, they were rusted beyond reuse. Obviously, we did not collect the entire inventory. Blake and Grant were finding the nuts and bolts almost daily. I let them play with the ones they found that could not cause harm if they were left in the path of a vehicle tire. The screws that I had recently dropped – the silver ones – I took back from them to save us repairing the flats they would have caused.

It took a little bit of fussing to convince the two of them that they could not keep the bent, useless nails either. Those ended up in a pile on top of one of the cabinets in the shop. Mama and I were out in the shop Tuesday evening picking up the last of the small boards that had been stacked on top of the pile of plywood used for their play area. I will dismantle the ramps and bridges I put together for them so the screws in them can be removed before the wood is burned or reused elsewhere.

Grandpa and I have tried to be very careful about accumulating the nails and other items that would flatten a tire. Those boards with nails in them are placed in a very specific spot so we know to avoid it with any air filled tire. The challenge with the grandsons was that their little eyes were so focused and intent on finding nails and screws that they would spot them in places I know I had looked before and not found anything. It was a blessing that they found what they did. It was more of a blessing that they allowed me to set the rules on where those little finds ended up being deposited.

Mama’s orthopedic appointment is this morning. I am going to try to go with her so I can hear the discussions with whoever is giving the details at the exam. Of particular concern to us is the problem she is having with her left knee. After we get that done we are going to meet the lady who is selling Mama the little sheep. Mama is pretty sure the appointments will not overlap, but they are back to back and time constrained. That’s the way Mama does things. She has already scheduled a show-and-tell with the church school and one family in the church on her way out of town after the transfer/purchase and after we have lunch together. It will be interesting to see how that goes.

Maggie and Aaron had an uplifting experience at a Wendy’s in Oregon on their travels north. As they said “amen” after asking the blessing on their food and their travel, a woman in the restaurant added her “amen” to the blessing. They talked with her as they ate and she gave them each a small Bible. She also prayed with them before they left. They were both greatly encouraged by the “chance” encounter.

I love God’s little confirmations of His presence in our lives.