Enjoy the TRUE message of Easter. He is RISEN!!!
Pruning is Good!
By Doug Creamer
There is a large pile in front of my house waiting for the limb pickup. Some of the limbs came down in storms back around the holidays. I put them off to the side at the time because there were too many other things that needed attention. The other part of the pile is from pruning that we did to some of our bushes.
For the last couple of weekends we have worked out in our yard pruning things back. Some of our shrubs get annual trimming while others only get occasional pruning. Trimming only involves using the electric hedge clippers. Pruning involves getting the loppers and pruners and taking out bigger limbs. By the looks of the pile out front, we took out some big pieces of the shrubs we were pruning.
When you look at freshly pruned shrubs they don’t look full and attractive. In fact, they look rather sparse. My wife has taught me repeatedly that pruning is very good for plants. I have become proficient at pruning our butterfly bushes and hydrangea. She has taught me how to prune them way back.
I know that grapevines have to be pruned back in order to produce a good crop of grapes. Pruned plants come back stronger and healthier. Some people mow down raspberry canes and they come back each year producing those wonderful berries. I have watched my wife prune back her plants we bring in for the winter before they return to the outdoors. She prunes them, and adds fresh soil and fertilizer.
Pruning takes away weak and unwanted growth. Sometimes when she finishes the plant will only have a few sprigs sticking up. Usually within a couple of weeks new growth starts to emerge and she ends up with stronger, fuller, and healthier plants. The same thing will happen with our shrubs. Within a few weeks we will see new growth that will look great.
The trouble I have with pruning comes when I apply it to my life. I know and understand that pruning is a good thing. I understand that God will come along and prune me back spiritually because he wants to see new growth and fruit in my life. The evidence is all around that pruning is a good thing. But when God comes along with the pruners in His hand I want to run.
I feel the same way when people talk about the seasons of life. I love when I sense a springtime arriving in my spiritual life. I can sense His spirit moving and working through me and I can see the fruit that is being produced in my life. What I don’t like is when I sense that fall is in the air. When I feel like God is bringing on a quiet season of winter rest, I am ready to jump on a spiritual plane and fly to South America for warm days and sunny skies.
God has given us plenty of signals in nature that life moves in cycles. The tide comes in and goes out at the beach. We have four seasons. Plants sprout, grow, produce fruit, and then go dormant and rest. Every plant needs a season of rest before producing the next season of flowers and fruit.
God has to come along with pruners so we will be stronger and produce more fruit for Him. He isn’t being harsh and uncaring; He is being the exact opposite. He is examining us and looking for weak growth to remove so we will grow stronger and healthier. He sees the potential that is locked away inside us and wants to encourage it to come out.
God lovingly prunes out unwanted growth to make room for fresh, new growth in our lives. God even allows seasons of drought so our roots will grow deeper in Him. The deep roots are necessary to hold us firm through the storms of life. Actually, we should be excited when we see God coming our way with the pruners because that means we are emerging into a new season of growth and fruitfulness. He is preparing us for a bright future.
I want to encourage you in whatever season of life you find yourself in…trust God! Enjoy the growing and fruitful times. Rest in and with the Lord during the dormant seasons. Don’t be afraid when you see God coming at you with the pruners. I know it hurts when He cuts things back, but He sees something better and stronger in you. He has a close eye on you and is dreaming of your new season of growth and fruitfulness.
Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com
Palm Sunday on Lake Norman
By Roger Barbee
Palm Sunday on Lake Norman
The appearance of the morning from inside belied the truth of this Palm Sunday, the last in our Lake Norman home. Before letting the dog out for his morning romp, I had seen the intense sunrise held in a blue sky that lit the white dogwood petals; but upon opening the door I was reminded of Eliot’s words about April.
The morning held not a spring chill but instead a sharp coldness that speaks to the falsity in the naming of seasons. Spring. Easter. Solstice. Passover. Full moon. All suggest an end to cold months and the emergence of blossoms and buds and new life. But nature does not work that way, on a paper schedule created by man. Instead, nature wanes, its seasonal faces fading smaller then growing larger, never remaining the same during its transition from one season to the other. But we know that it will change, even when jolted by the cold upon opening a door for a thirteen-inch beagle to venture out.
The cold of this morning quickly drove me back inside, and I left the beagle on his own to navigate the day’s arrival. However, before long he clawed at the screen door, announcing both his dissatisfaction with the spring morning and his empty stomach. Eating breakfast, I watched the day come; he watched my toast, each of us wanting what will only come in small bits. His want is filled before mine because I share tidbits of my peanut buttered toast, but I will have to wait until early afternoon for the rawness of the day to fade.
It is not that the morning was so cold, but that the sight of blooming dogwoods and azaleas bursting in spring arrival and so many more signs of newness deceive us into thinking that warmth is here. Some folks, as I did above, will describe such a morning as “raw”, but it is not. Raw is a wet January day that carries a wind; the morning I ventured out into is only a surprise to the system, but one that will be gone in a day or less. By calling such a day as “raw” it is almost as if we are blaming the weather for not meeting our selfish expectations.
However, the day did change as anticipated and by early afternoon the sun had heated our patch of earth. More birdlife glided onto and under the three feeders and would perch on one of the three birdbaths for a drink or bath. The boattailed grackles dominated the limbs of the middle dogwood tree, their blackish and purple plumage gleaming in the midst of white petals. Some returning brown thrashers ate dropped sunflower seeds and picked dried grass for their nests. And smaller birds like finches, brown-headed nuthatches, and Carolina chickadees milled on the sidelines waiting their turn. And the beagle went forth into his garden to chase squirrels and then nap on the warm pine straw next to the brown St. Francis of Assisi statue.
In 1922 when The Waste Land was first published, the horrors and destruction of WW I were still fresh memories, and Eliot begins the poem with “April is the cruellest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain.” While Eliot was describing the aftermath of “the war to end all wars,” his use of April is perfect because it is the month of breeding and mixing and stirring of rebirth. Yet, it can also have raw, freezing days and wet snows and too much rain. It is unpredictable; thus the poet sees it as the cruelest because it has the capacity to tease us.
Palm Sunday 2023, over one hundred years after The Great War that redefined modern life. But the earth, here in our back garden and elsewhere, still breeds and mixes and stirs winter dullness to fresh life on its schedule, not man’s. And in spite of our destruction across our only planet, we await, and even seem to expect this miracle each year. Like the Man who rose from the dead all those years ago.
4 More Counties
By David Freeze
I will admit that I am becoming addicted to visiting the county seats of all 100 counties. At the last minute, I headed north on Wednesday to skirt the Virginia line in order to visit some of the less populated areas. And what fun it was!
I had my eye on Danbury, the seat of Stokes County, from the start because of its small size. What I found on a day of very scenic mountain-like drives was a history laden town of about 142 residents. General Stoneman’s Union force of up to 5,000 men occupied Danbury on April 9 and 10, 1865. He took over Moody’s Tavern, partly because of a hilltop view to the east and west where he thought resistance may come from. Stoneman got word of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox while here. The tavern is still there, built before 1860, but it later became McCanless Hotel. A portion of an old iron works is also still in town, the iron used for Confederate cannons, rifles and swords.
Founded in 1851, Danbury had multiple interesting sites. The Danbury Cemetery, established in 1856, had multiple rows of very small and unreadable monuments. The old courthouse is spectacular, and one source said that Danbury got the county seat because of its central location. There are at least three old but still active church buildings and a few active businesses. One is the Artists Way Creations Bakery and Café where I got a cinnamon bun, a cupcake and two oatmeal cookies.
Next I headed to Wentworth, the county seat of Rockingham County. Historic Wentworth was also amazing, yet I drove by it because Siri told me that I hadn’t reached town yet. Siri’s Wentworth was a new and sprawling courthouse with various government agencies nearby. I drove back to the historic part and explored it in the rain. First chartered as Rockingham Courthouse, the town became Wentworth in 1794.
I found Wright Tavern, built in 1816, and still in good shape. It is called a dog run building, common during that period and meaning that a breezeway exists on the first floor. Wentworth Presbyterian Church was organized in 1859, again just ahead of the Civil War, as was Ratliffe’s store which served as the post office. The magnificent old courthouse was built in 1907 replacing the one that burned in 1906 after being built in 1824. Several Confederate infantry companies were formed at the 1824 structure.
Especially interested in Ratliffe’s store, I noted that the foundation was made of flat and stacked rocks. I couldn’t see inside the store but can only imagine the history of the building. The courthouse is now a museum and was open during my visit. The old jail is just across the road from the courthouse.
I headed east for more of the same in Yanceyville, county seat of Caswell County and founded in 1792. I found a similar historic area as with Danbury and Wentworth, but this time clearly the center of the town. Dominating the town center is possibly my favorite courthouse so far, surrounded by history and memoriam. Yanceyville was either named for U.S. Congressman Bartlett Yancey or his older brother James. Debate still lingers over this topic. Bartlett Yancey’s home remains, painted in a light shade of purple.
Courthouse square has many antebellum homes nearby, one built in 1836 that adjoins the square. Within a short walking distance behind the courthouse are the old jail, used from 1906 to 1973 and the first one built in N.C. with the intention of hanging prisoners inside. It was never used for that purpose because the laws changed the year after it was built. Also behind the courthouse are the one room Poteat Schoolhouse, used around 1900, and an arboretum. Notable were the side by side memorials to the local soldiers of the Confederacy and to Nicholas Dillard, the local man credited with ending segregation in the area.
Speaking of antebellum homes, I spent about 12 miles on N.C. 150 before leaving the Caswell County area. I was amazed at the amount of older homes still in use along this road. I have never seen so many of them like this anywhere in the country. It’s well worth the ride if you visit the area.
I decided to finish my visit to Mocksville on the way home. I had earlier visited the grave of Daniel Boone’s parents and needed to finish my visit to the county seat of Davie County. I was not disappointed. I found a bustling and busy Main Street, all in sight of their courthouse, that included many restored buildings. One previously housed a tobacco factory from 1866-1882 and another a general store that began in 1905. A large mural depicted how horses were unloaded from the train during World War II for use on the local farms since gasoline was scarce. Those horses were run through town to a corral next to a blacksmith shop.
A lot of attention is given to Daniel Boone, remembered as a hunter, explorer, backwoodsman, surveyor, legislator and more during his time in Davie County from 1750-65. His monument sits in front of the courthouse, commemorative of the Boone Trail Highway. Just down the street is the restored Carolina Frost Cabin, built before 1840, about the time that Mocksville was incorporated in 1839.
Mocksville, just like all the others of this day, is loaded with history. Loaded with impressive old homes and churches too and I always enjoy driving through town. The big courthouse is still in use.
With 12 counties complete, I look forward to visiting the other 88. Some will be on multi-day trips. I spent 6.06 miles on my feet today and drove 246 miles to visit these wonderful towns. No duds here! We’ll continue soon.
A Watch Over Our Mouths
By Ed Traut
Proverbs 13:3 He who guards his lips guards his life, but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin.
- Life and death is certainly in the tongue and what comes out defiles rather than what goes in.
- So much has been done in years gone by with what was said or not said.
- The godly wise person watches carefully what comes out of the mouth and takes great care with words.
Prayer: Lord I ask You to help me and put a watch in front of my mouth that I will not speak quickly or irrationally or impulsively or foolishly, but to be very wise with the words that I use that they will glorify You and bring life to me rather than ruin to me or my household. Teach me Your ways Lord. Amen.
Ed Traut
Prophetic Life
Knock Knock
By Lynna Clark
I have two sisters who are twins. Not with me, with each other. Otherwise I guess we’d be triplets. Anyway, they are nearly four years younger than me. Unlike me they are still very active. They play Pickleball regularly. Both of them still get outside and walk often. They have card playing buddies and get together with them for tournaments and such. Best of all they still teach Bible classes and love their students. Tamra teaches elementary boys in her church while Janice brings weekly studies to ladies of advanced wisdom. Oh how I love them both. They make me laugh and think and think about laughing. Though we share the common thread of sisterhood, we are very different. While they enjoy people and love a good party, or fellowship as the church folks say, I tend to be a homebody. Please don’t make me go. My favorite plans are cancelled plans. I don’t even own a welcome mat because I don’t want to be a hypocrite. Annyyywayyy…
There is a running joke between us sisters about three old women who live together. These ladies live a confused life, much like my own. The other day we were trying to remember how the joke goes but couldn’t get it right. If that wasn’t so sad, it would be funny. Eventually sister Tamra texted it to us. It goes something like this.
Three elderly ladies lived together. One was upstairs and called down in a panic. “Somebody come help! I’ve got one foot in the tub and I can’t remember if I was getting in or out.” The second lady headed upstairs to help when suddenly she stopped on the staircase. “Oh no! I can’t remember if I was going up the stairs or down!” The third lady who was sitting at the dining table shook her head and commented. “I hope I never get that forgetful. Knock on wood. Wait… was that the front door or the back?”
So when Tamra sent me the text, I replied: “Since I can’t get in or out of the tub by myself, and I sure can’t be climbing no steps, can I be the one at the table? Knock on wood. Hang on. There’s somebody at the door.”
I have no idea where I was headed with this story. I guess the moral of it is to enjoy life no matter the season. Maybe even laugh, or think, or think about laughing while we still can.
Knock on wood.
“In the multitude of my thoughts within me, Thy comforts delight my soul.” -Psalm 94:19
What’s Your Story?
By Ann Farabee
What’s your story?
We all have one, don’t we?
Our stories often come from our tests
. But instead of becoming bitter, we can allow our struggle to make us better.
We can allow our test to become our testimony and our mess to become our message.
We all have a story to share that God can use to bless and encourage others. I have had some stories from my life that I did not feel the freedom to share for years because of shame or embarrassment, but God’s timing gave me the go ahead when the time was right. When, why and how do we share? We share when the Lord puts it in our spirit to share. It may be a friend in need. It may be a family member who needs help. It may be a stranger that God puts in our pathway. We share our stories because they can be related to by many who are going through similar situations.
When we share, others can find comfort, help, hope and encouragement.
Surprisingly, we ourselves — the ones doing the sharing — can find those things, as well.
We are overcomers.
Reflect with me for a moment.
Where are we?
Are we in His arms?
Are we standing in the shadows wishing we were closer to Him?
Are we headed to a distant country without even realizing we have changed directions?
Have we been in a faraway land way too long?
The amazing thing about responding to any of these questions is that no matter how far we have gone off the path — we are only one step away from that path — and all we have to do is turn around.
Ever been lost before?
Our tendency is to go a little further in hopes that we will recognize the way.
For me, that never works.
At some point, I always realize that all I need to do is to turn around.
We can overcome.
How do I know?
John 16:33 says, “These things have I spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation, but take courage, I have overcome the world.”
What’s your story?
Are you an overcomer?
Lord, may we tell our story for Your Glory!
Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.
Caring for God’s House
By Doug Creamer
We had our annual spring work day at church last Saturday. Our leadership team created a long list of things that needed to be done around our church. If given a choice of working inside or outside, I will always choose working outside. There were quite a few things that needed to be spruced up outside and I was looking forward to getting them done.
Our pastor was concerned about the weather forecast for Saturday. Most of my loyal readers know about my love for weather, so I’m considered our church’s meteorologist. I follow the weather daily, and sometimes, hourly. My weakness is that I do not follow daily highs and lows. I am more interested in the next weather event.
Back to Saturday’s forecast. We knew rain was coming, but we were unsure about the timing. The front that came through last weekend was the one that brought the tornadoes to the Deep South. Pastor wanted to know if we needed to be concerned about getting a shower or the possibility of severe storms during our work day. I studied the models and forecasts and thought the rain would hold off until after our work day.
I rolled out of bed Saturday morning to the sound of thunder. I knew I was in for a good ribbing from my pastor and the congregation. I tried to hide when I arrived at church but my pastor announced my arrival with some healthy teasing and lots of laughter. I laughed the hardest and pointed out that the rain stopped as I walked in. We were able to get a lot of work done outside despite the fact that we had a couple of light sprinkles pass through while we worked.
Some people chose to work inside, changing lightbulbs, cleaning up areas, getting the nursery ready for a couple of new babies that will be arriving soon, and a number of other things to make our church more inviting. The crew that worked outside got the weeds out of the flower beds, cleaned out the gutters, put out new pine needles, and trimmed up some of trees, among other things, to make the outside welcoming.
We had lots of fun laughing and talking while we worked. I love my church family. We are always there for each other. We are also blessed to have a nice place to call our home. Just like the places we all live, our homes, our church home needs to be maintained. We have to consider what people might think when they visit us. We want to make the best possible impression on our visitors.
Maintaining our churches is important if we hope to attract new people to follow Christ. One of our main purposes is to attract new people to the faith, to reach out to the lost. We need to work at keeping our churches up-to-date and well maintained. The same can be said for ourselves in both a physical and spiritual way.
My Dad who is now #*% years old (I am not allowed to print that number) does a lot to stay physically active. He goes to the gym regularly, walks multiple times a week, and plays golf multiple times a week. He has been a good example to me about taking care of himself physically. He has cheered me on since I began walking on a regular basis. He will tell you that staying physically active will help you stay healthy.
Equally important in my mind is maintaining our spiritual lives. Our spirits can’t thrive without a regular intake of God’s word. There is so much wisdom available to us about how to live our daily lives. It’s full of promises to help us through the dark times in life. We also need to pray, not just for our needs but for the needs of others and for our churches. Our spirits really need to be in fellowship with other believers. You can encourage and be encouraged. It is vital that we maintain our close relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.
I want to encourage you to work on maintaining your physical and spiritual well-being. God calls our body a temple. He comes to reside in us, so He wants a well-maintained home. He also wants to work through us to reach the lost and hurting with His hope. There are people all around you who need the Lord. A well-maintained life prepares you for those opportunities. I encourage you to maintain your relationship with God, take good care of your spiritual and physical body, and be an active part of your church family.
Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com
Spring Petals and Crosses
By Roger Barbee
Last night’s wind left dogwood blossoms covering the walkway of our back garden. When I exited the screen porch, I tread on a blanket of still-white petals from the tree next to the walkway. None of the other dogwood trees had lost their petals, and this one particular tree still had many of them left on its limbs, but for whatever reason, it had showered a spring dusting that caused me to think about death. Especially the death that Christians celebrate this time of the year.
Crucifixion most likely began with the Assyrians and Babylonians who tied their victims to a tree or post, leaving their feet to dangle. The Romans, after learning of the punishment during the Punic Wars, began using crosses to perfect the punishment. The Roman Empire used it especially in the Holy Land, and in 4 B.C E. the Roman general Varus crucified 2,000 Jews, and the historian Josephus writes that there were mass crucifixions during the first century A.C.E.
The victim was scourged, forced to carry the horizontal beam to the upright post, stripped, then either tied or nailed through the wrist to the cross beam before it was attached to the upright post. The victim’s name and crime was posted above his or her head. It was a slow, painful, and public death. Viewed as a shameful way of death, it was reserved for only the worst of criminals, and no Roman citizen would be executed in this manner.
Christians wear crosses, churches attach them to high steeples, and the symbol is used in a myriad of other ways that represent our belief. Yet, the crosses we use are sanitized images of what was used to kill. The Christian crosses have no representation of blood, mucus, pieces of torn flesh, urine, feces, or hair. Nothing that is evident from such a brutal death is on any part of the gold cross worn around the neck of many Christians or on the silver crosses that are present in all Christian churches. They are pristine, and I suggest that is where we delude ourselves concerning His death.
Through our art, music, architecture, jewelry, and more, we have created a false image of what His death was. While we read and say the words of it, we deny its reality by our accepted images of what His execution was. What I am suggesting is that we can be honest of its brutality by our language of His ordeal and the images we use for it. Each of us, for instance, can discard the neat, golden cross worn around our necks and wear a small, rough, and irregular wooden one that would be more representative of the cross on which our Savior tasted death for us. I appreciate that houses of worship will not and perhaps can not remove their crosses. But we individual Christians can make a small change to remind us of His death on a tree and the brutal pain He endured.
Four More Counties
By David Freeze
I had a free day on Wednesday, so I loaded up my notebook, iPad, oversized Road Atlas and several layers of running clothes, then headed north. Wednesday morning’s low of 25 degrees made me wonder if north was the right direction, but all worked out.
My first stop was Taylorsville, county seat of Alexander County, and in the foothills of the Brushy Mountains. The town was formed in 1847 and likely named after General Zachary Taylor who was then fighting in the Mexican American War. I found a nice downtown with light traffic and a good mix of old and new.
The premier building in town is an old jail built in 1913. The jail now holds some city offices and a small museum about the jailers who served there. The courthouse is modern and the grounds honor those who died in the military from Civil War to present. Murals highlight the town’s little league area and the Alexander Railroad Line that carried freight from Statesville to Taylorsville. The ball field mural depicted an almost forgotten memory of donkey ball. Players rode an almost unwilling donkey as they played their game.
The most unique thing I saw was a community blessing box, similar to those “leave a book, take a book” stands but built into the side of free meal site. The sign read, “Take what you need, leave what you can, above all, feel blessed.” Bread and canned goods filled the box.
Next stop was Wilkesboro, county seat of Wilkes County. Dominating the beautiful downtown area were the spectacular old courthouse, built in 1902, and the Smithey Hotel, built in 1891. Both are still in use. The courthouse is the home of the Wilkes Heritage Museum and the Blue Ridge Music Hall of Fame. Formerly gray, it is now a spectacular white. The Smithey Hotel features a wrap-around porch on the first two floors. It isn’t still listed as a hotel but has several retail businesses on the first floor.
The Brown-Cowles house is the oldest known house in Wilkesboro, dating from the 1830s, and is complete with a slave kitchen and curing house. There is also a fantastic mural of Doc Watson, the local musician who helped to start Merlefest, a four-day music festival that hosts 80,000 attendees.
Hungry by late morning, I stopped in at Mr. Toro Mexican Bakery. Often willing to try an unusual baked good, I asked the owner about something that looked like a hard turnover. He called it a “corn cookie.” Priced right at a dollar each, I got two. Not sweet but still delicious, it was a cross between a hard biscuit and cookie.
Wilkesboro is proud of its history and has multiple walking tours since most of the historic sites are close together, many on Main Street. Wilkesboro is also proud of its moonshine heritage, proclaiming itself the “Moonshine Capital of the World.” I left town on U.S. 421 while getting a good view of the renovations at the Wilkesboro Speedway, where some of the local moonshine drivers like Junior Johnson showcased their racing skills. Nascar’s all-star race will be held here this May.
Next stop was Dobson, county seat of Surry County. Dobson is the home of the largest winery in North Carolina, Shelton Vineyards. The area is heavily agricultural with corn, soybeans and tobacco. Tabitha Holton was the first licensed female lawyer in the Southern United States in 1878. The courthouse is modern in style.
Sonker, a unique dessert, was thought to originate nearby in the mid-1800s. Similar to a cobbler, it is made with dough and fruit or sweet potato. There is actually a “Sonker Trail” with eight restaurants that serve it, but none are actually in the current town of Dobson. Disappointed, I stopped for pizza slices at New York Pizza and talked with Tom Nelson and Tiggy Garrett.
Yadkinville was the next stop and is the county seat of Yadkin County. Yadkinville was formed in 1850 and became the county seat in 1851 at a time when there was only one house in town. The town was originally named Wilson, but leaders discovered that another Wilson already existed in North Carolina. The town was then named for the Yadkin River which forms the northern and eastern boundaries of the county. Residents resisted the railroad until the 1880s, but soon after a line was extended to Mocksville helping attract some industry to town.
The courthouse in Yadkinville is modern in appearance, but the most spectacular building in town is a huge Cultural Arts Center. The town has dedicated most of a block to the center, art studios and related businesses.
I enjoyed the day tremendously and wind was only a factor in Dobson, where the courthouse sits on top of a long hill. My on-foot tours of the four towns totaled 6.83 miles. I went overboard a little in Taylorsville and Dobson. I did stop on the way home to see the burial plots of Daniel Boone’s parents, but that is part of a story for another day. Eight counties down, 92 to go.
The Mt. Hope Church 5K is Saturday, March 25. Look for this and other events at www.salisburyrowanrunners.org.