Frosty Ascension
It’s a frosty 32-degrees here in Schaefferstown, Pennsylvania—as you can see on the picture below of our freshly-cut orchard grass waiting to be tedded and baled for the alpacas. There was too much in the garden to effectively cover, so hopefully the 8+-inch pea plants and the tomatoes will be spared with a little sprinkling of water just before sunrise. It’s generally accepted that there’s not frost after Mother’s Day in these parts, but that didn’t hold out this morning!
It is also Ascension Day, a little-celebrated day throughout much of the Christian church. We live in a part of the world where many Mennonite-owned businesses will be closed today, but most people will give little to no thought to this unique day which marks the inauguration of Christ’s Kingdom. Most will go about their business as usual, forgetting that this day is the day Jesus promised His followers would receive Holy Spirit power to be His witnesses throughout the earth (see Acts 1:6ff).
The vet is coming this morning to check out our five alpacas, including the two pregnant ones—due to deliver any day now (there is no question in the animal world about male or female). I need to get them corralled in the barns. I have hay to move around to make space for the new before that (Thursday is my “administrative day” when I don’t see patients). We meet as Heritage providers for an educational session this afternoon. Hence, my writing moments are limited today!
But I’ve been thinking this week about legacy as I’ve wrapped up my reading in 2 Kings. The kings of Israel and Judah are introduced by name and the immediate commentary, “and he did what was evil [or right] in the sight of the Lord.” If you know anything about Old Testament history, you’ll recall that there were no kings of Israel who did what was right and few kings of Judah who did right. The sections often conclude with a comment that the rest of the king’s acts are chronicled elsewhere.
Name and commentary on evil or righteousness. In the big scheme of things, that seems to be all that matters. Not our accomplishments, not our wealth, not our education, not even our families. Not that any of these are insignificant. But they are not primary. So, roll the clock forward to the day of your demise—which could be today or years from today. What will be said of you? What will be said of me?
We sometimes get burdened down in the heat of the day. We forget to “tend our gardens.” That was a beautiful phrase used by J. I. Packer in his final interview before his death. It’s neither flashy nor sexy, as they say. It’s just responsibly tending the space God has entrusted us with.
And in the process, I hope that my legacy will be: “And Joel did that which was right in the sight of the Lord.”