Heartwood

By Terri Conlin

What makes a heart grow? For Paul Laughlin, growing his heart of faith has been a gradual process that has taken fifty years and counting, like the concentric rings of growth in a tree. Perhaps it began with his father's death when Paul, as a young sapling, discovered a prayer book by his bedside, tattered and well-loved, a dimension of his father's life not shared with the son. In college, Paul prayed a heartfelt prayer of salvation, then went out for beer and pizza. He simply didn't know what to do next, so he remained the holiday Christian of his boyhood. He knew something was still lacking in his life, but savored his job and the wealth and applause that eventually came with a successful career. He marched ahead with very small growth rings around his heart during this time. Little did he know that a faithful man of prayer labored among his employees and for years prayed for Paul to know Jesus.

When he retired, Paul began to vigorously ask himself some tough questions. What is my relationship with God to be: non-existent, of little consequence, or bigger than life? First he took an intellectual approach reading 150 books and writing a thesis of his findings. Then he began attending church and reading his Bible. Simple obligation ruled his heart on early mission trips, yet something inside began to stir. It took him two years to join the church. During this time, Paul and his wife joined a small group of Nazarene believers who possessed an authentic joy that baffled him and yet drew him in. This was a stand of trees he could be planted in. These newfound friends watered him with a little book by Oswald Chambers not among the 150 of his thesis.

Then came several epiphanies in rapid succession like the swing of a sharp axe chopping down a tree. He was selfish. Chop. He didn't know how to love. Chop. He realized his worst relationship on earth represented the heart of his relationship with God. Chop. Chop. These cuts were deep as he realized that perhaps he lacked the capacity for Christ-like love after all. Then God gave him a gift in the chance seating arrangement on a plane trip. When Paul and Steve began chatting on the way home from a conference about agape love, Steve was able to agree with Paul that he might never truly love his neighbor, but wasn't that precisely the point? Steve left him with a profoundly simple challenge: could Paul bring the love of Christ to his neighbor until he learned to love with Christ-like love?

Paul began in his own home, bringing that love to his wife; trying each day to see her needs as greater that his own. Growth rings. Then he accepted a challenge to serve meals for people with HIV/AIDS. At first, he stayed in the kitchen frequently washing his hands, but one day he walked out into the dining room and sat down uncomfortably at a table. Growth rings. Then he brought homeless teens to the church grounds for a day of rocket launching amid laughter and fellowship. Growth rings.

Together with his wife Sue, Paul is in his sixth year of reading his own well-loved and tattered copy of the devotional My Utmost for His Highest. His roots are thirsty for living water. Paul's bark is marked with beautiful scars from where the axe was laid and over time the layers from each growing season have become heartwood. ©

 
Reach Terri Conlin at www.whitepitchers.com

The Question Asked us on Thanksgiving Morning

By Cornelia Seigneur

The knocks came excitedly at my door at 9:05 Thanksgiving morning.

Katie, Blythe and her Navy pal streamed into my home like the warm sunshine through the windows. They were carrying grocery bags filled with bread, cheese, Cuties, and smiles, ready to get to work. Cherie, Ruth, Brandon, Jessi, Kristine from Denmark, and Keenan's entire family trickled in.  They were packing sliced turkey breast, granola bars, more cheese and bread and 24-packs of bottled water.

Our sweet guests on Thanksgiving morning were the result of spontaneous phone calls made the night before to our high school Bible study connections. They joined us in crafting a few     sandwiches – well about 120 – to bring to the homeless. People adjusted their schedules last minute in hopes of bringing a little cheer, to do what the second part of the compound word "ThanksGiving" says.

We created a makeshift assembly line. One person sliced cheddar cheese, another added turkey, another knifed peanut butter on bread, another added homemade jam, someone else placed the sandwich in a ziplock sandwich bag, another person added the fruit and a granola bar to gallon-size ziplock bags, ending with bottled water. Ryan and Chris got boxes to hold the 120 bags of goodies. 

Rachel got to work on the Bible verses we were to place in each bag. How about the traditional one about God loving the world so much, as we did last Thanksgiving?

Blythe suggested; "What about, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me?'"

We printed off both, adding the Bible verses to the bags along with mini candy-canes in honor of 4-year-old Augustin who loves candy-canes. We loaded our cars and were off to downtown Portland with a prayer to somehow make a difference for Christ on Thanksgiving.  

From a distance, we saw Jackie and Darlene outside of the door that said Projects. Darlene was wrapped in blankets.

I have three children, one 17, one 13 and one 12. She smiled at my children with me.

Jackie opened her bag of goodies we had brought along, pulling out the Bible verse.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me". . . I needed to hear this verse. Thank you for reminding me of this.

As we got ready to depart, Darlene asked if she would see us next week. 

Maybe we need to change our plans again.

 
Reach Cornelia Seigneur at: cornelia@writermom.net