God is sovereign? But--*gasp*--that must mean we are robots!!!

Or does it?

If God has written out our story from eternity past, do we have a choice to live out our lives the way we want to? And really, this question sounds pretty selfish, but this same question is the one many people will turn to again and again to try and disprove that God is at complete liberty to shape His creation how He wills. In the end, it all boils down to this same question that Paul asked almost 2,000 years ago:

Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make from the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for common use?

 (Rom 9:21 NASB)

 

I know a good many friends and acquaintances who might mumble a begrudged "yes" to this question, but in reality--if they were completely honest--"no" would be their answer. "God's created us with free will!" they are quick to point out. "We have choices; we're not robots!"

 

But hold on a second, don't we want God to be in total control over His creation? If the Lord is not sovereign, than how are we to rest in the promises He has made us? Can we still have that peace that surpasses all understanding--that peace that says "God's got a plan, and all these things, good or bad, are working out together for our good"--if we don't believe He is completely sovereign?

 

No, I would say, not really.

 

A this point, some of you might be thinking, "Wow, Kyle, I didn't know you were one of those whacky people who believe man doesn't have free will!" Don't worry; I'm not. In fact, I believe in both God's sovereignty and man's free will. Our choices really do matter. We aren't robots. But yet, I also believe just as emphatically that God is completely sovereign!

 

The idea seems completely incompatible, doesn't it? But before you dismiss me as crazy (which, depending on your definition, I may or may not be) ;0), take a look at these verses:

 

Proverbs 20:24 NASB - Man's steps are ordained by the LORD, How then can man understand his way?

Proverbs 16:9 NASB - The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps

Proverbs 19:21 NASB - Many plans are in a man's heart, But the counsel of the LORD will stand.
Proverbs 16:1 NASB - The plans of the heart belong to man, But the answer of the tongue is from the LORD

 

I know I blinked a few times when I first read these verses. What if it is true that despite man planning his way, God is still in control of his steps? What if despite our free will, God is still in control of every decision that we make? These verses seem to say so, and as I have studied this topic more and more in Scripture, I am more and more convinced that this is the correct balance to have to this whole debate between God's sovereignty vs. man's free will. Both are true. Man really does make choices. God really is sovereign over everything, from when the lowly deer or mountain goat will give birth or when the hawk will soar (Job 39), on up to every decision man makes--even man's decision to sin.

 

And yes, this is just about precisely the time my friends who err more on the side of man's free will will argue something like: "But Kyle, God NEVER forces man to sin!" I wholeheartedly agree. Our holy, holy, holy Lord never forces anyone to sin. Yet, I still believe our sin never catches God off guard. He has never resorted to a "Plan B". So yes, by definition then, I would say that even sin is not outside of God's plan. When we choose to sin, it is a terrible, terrible thing. We should repent and live righteously, but what if God almighty can even use the ugly things in our lives to fulfill His purposes?

Take a close look at these passages:

This Man, delivered over by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God, you nailed to a cross by the hands of godless men and put Him to death.

(Act 2:23 NASB)

 

"For truly in this city there were gathered together against Your holy servant Jesus, whom You anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever Your hand and Your purpose predestined to occur.

(Act 4:27-28 NASB)

 

So wait, it was clearly a sin to crucify the Son of God, and Peter affirms in Acts 2:23 that the men who nailed Jesus to the cross will be held fully responsible for their heinous actions, but yet . .. this sin was still all part of God's plan?

 

 And this is not the only instance in the Bible where God uses man's sin to bring about His plan. Really, there are quite a few. Another great example is Israel's rejection of their Messiah. That was clearly sin, and Jesus was genuinely grieved by this sin when He said in Mathew 23:37:  “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling." I think you would agree with me, though, that Jesus was not distraught because somehow His purpose for coming to Earth had been thwarted by the Jews unbelief. In fact, it was all part of God's plan so that we Gentiles could be "grafted in"--and so that ultimately, Israel could be brought back to God. (see Romans 11)

 

How amazing to believe that despite the terrible things--evil, godless things-- that have happened or will happen in the world, God can and will still use them to work together all things to both bring glory to Himself and for the good of His chosen people! Does this mean that we should have a nonchalant attitude towards sin and evil? No, definitely not! As God's people, we have been given the task of destroying fortresses of evil and everything that raises itself up against the knowledge of God (2 Corinthians 10:5), and we should be constantly striving to put off our "old self" as we clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience through the Holy Spirit. (Colossians 3:12-17) In short, we must as Christians continually desire to become more like Christ! However, with God's sovereignty over sin in mind, we need not be dismayed over anything that happens in our world. Now that is the peace that surpasses all understanding!

 I can only conclude with Paul:

Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways! For WHO HAS KNOWN THE MIND OF THE LORD, OR WHO BECAME HIS COUNSELOR? Or WHO HAS FIRST GIVEN TO HIM THAT IT MIGHT BE PAID BACK TO HIM AGAIN? For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever. Amen.

(Rom 11:33-36 NASB)

 

Amen indeed!

 

25,000 words down!

I just hit the 25% mark, or 25,000 words, with my new novel, The Land of the Luminents! I'm excited; it's coming along nicely! I really hope I will actually finish it. ;0)

For anyone who's interested, here is a another peek into the story!

-----

 

Chapter Eight

The Strangest Thing Ever

When I woke up, it was daylight. I was lying on my back in the cave with a patch of sunlight falling on my face. I groaned and shook my head to clear my groggy brain, and it all came back to me. That’s right, I had been sick or something, and for some reason, I had wanted to see the cave again. And I had. But then I had passed out. It must be morning now.

So I sat up and crawled to my feet. I walked towards the entrance. My groggy mind was giving me this faint sense that something was wrong, or at least peculiar, but I was too tired to care. All I wanted was to get back to my little bedroom and get some more sleep. Forget about the morning chores. They could wait. Even breakfast could wait for all I was concerned.

Then I stepped outside of the cave, and the warning flags in my brain finally got my attention. What? This was strange. The last I remembered, my cave had been on a slope, but now I was standing on flat ground. At the same time, it occurred to me that I had been walking completely upright out of the cave, which it was too small for. So either I had shrunk or the cave had gotten bigger. No big deal, right?

WHAT? My mind suddenly snapped to full consciousness. I turned around and stared back at the cave entrance. It wasn’t exactly how I remembered it. At all. Instead of a small hole almost hidden by the forest underbrush, now the entrance had been widened about three times over. A smooth dirt ramp led down from the lip of the enlarged entrance into the cave, which had also grown much bigger it seemed. Then there were the statutes, one on either side of the entrance. They were massive chiseled-stone images of men. They stood straight and tall, with a hood shadowing their grim faces. A sheath of arrows was slung over their shoulders, and each statue held what looked like a longbow--all this carved in great detail in the white stone.

I stared up at the statues, dumbfounded. This was the strangest thing ever! Where had those giant things come from? Then an idea struck me. I looked around to see if anything else had changed, and yep, it had. The trees for instance, they had grown. Instead of being 40 foot tall Maple trees, they were now 70 or more foot tall Maple trees. No, check that, they weren’t even Maple trees anymore. They looked like some sort of pine. What on earth?

It finally struck me: what if this was not my cave, or even the forbidden forest? But how was that even possible? I looked closer at the forest. The pine trees were indeed large and spaced apart majestically, with patches of grass and smaller trees interspaced between them. Here and there, these jagged rock outcrops dotted the landscape. It was all strangely beautiful, but definitely different than the forest I remembered.

I wondered if it was possible that I had wandered into a different part of the forest last night. But no, I remembered following my markers down to the stream, and then the stream to my cave. So what was I doing here in the morning? I was starting to feel a little weird—and even scared. I racked my brain for any detail last night that could explain everything . . .

And suddenly I remembered the light, that strange, clear blue light that had shined suddenly in the cave. And you know what? That didn’t make me feel any less scared. I looked back at the cave entrance I had just walked out of, and then at the solemn statues that almost seemed to be guarding its entrance.

The thought, as strange as it was, came to me immediately. A portal, I thought. A portal to a whole new land.

I think it was then that I sensed him.

I had this sudden strange feeling that I was not alone, and I spun back around, searching the patchy forest underbrush. Then the man stepped out into sight from behind a tree. He stood only ten feet away from me.

I jumped, and a cold tendril of fear wrapped around me even tighter. The figure who stood before me was strange. I mean, his features were ordinary enough—a smooth, tanned face with fine features and a thick mop of curly black hair. He was young, probably only a little bit older than me. He stood about five and a half feet tall—short for a man, but that was not what was odd about him. It was the way he was dressed. He wore a green shirt with this strange cloak made from what looked like twisted strands of leather. His pants were dirt brown, made of some sort of course fabric.  He had a sheath of arrows slung over his shoulder and carried a long, curved bow in one hand and a smooth staff in the other.

Then he opened his mouth and tried to talk to me. But his speech . . .  it was strange, unlike anything I had heard before. It was not like a foreign language where you cannot understand anything that was said. This was different. I felt like I was really close to understanding what he was saying, but yet . . . but yet I didn’t understand a word. It sounded like he was asking a question. I guessed he was probably asking me for my name.

“Hi, um, I’m Ken,” I said hoarsely.

The man stopped talking, and he looked at me strangely. His eyes, I noticed, were a deep brown, and you know how sometimes people’s eyes can look kind of distant or thoughtful? Well, his eyes looked kind of like that, only a little different—inquisitive, I thought, or curious. I had seen the same look in the eyes of a deer once, and I realized that that was what they reminded me of.

But wait, the man was no longer staring at my face. He was staring at my upper torso with that same look in his eyes. He pointed at my chest with the hand holding his walking stick and uttered a single word. “Luminous,” it sounded like.

I followed his fingers with my eyes, and my gaze settled upon my chest. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was glowing! I’m totally serious; the center of my chest glowed faintly through my t-shirt with this clear blue color—the same color, I think, as the one in my cave last night. Now I was freaked out—really, really freaked out. I took a step backwards, still staring at my chest. I realized suddenly that all I wanted was to get home. Home to my bed, away from all this sudden craziness. It occurred to me that if the cave behind me was a portal to wherever I was now, than it must also lead back to where I had come from. I could get back through it . . .

I took another step backwards, faster this time, and another. The young man in front of me said something. This time it sounded like a command, almost like, “halt”, and I’m guessing that was exactly what it was. But I didn’t care. I turned and fled towards the portal entrance. There was another harsh yell behind me, and I heard footsteps coming after me. I panicked. I looked over my shoulder to see that the strange young man was right behind me, lifting his staff up over his head . . .

Then he struck me square on the head, and my last thought was on how such a little fellow could move so fast . . .

One year of Kyle's Clipper in the books!

Hi y'all! One year of Kyle's Clipper is officially in the books! So, how did my first year go? The short answer: it went really well! Though I started the year with only 4 steady customers, I ended the year having worked for 41 different customers, including about 20 steady lawns. It was a great learning experience! I learned so much about so many different things, from learning how to work with customers and meet their needs, to lawn mower repair, mechanics, and accounting. In short, employing myself was one crazy, awesome adventure!

I could tell you many interesting stories that happened throughout the year, from the hilarious to the intriguing to the just plain strange. Like that time a man who was clearly not "all there" tried to give me tar to spread on my arms to keep the mosquitos away, to my many great conversations with one dear older customer who has dementia. Then there were the times where I wanted to melt into the ground with embarrassment or the times where I wanted to burst out laughing at some of the quirky things I ran into . . . You'll have to wait for a future blog post for those stories. ;0)

In the profit and loss department (which, thanks to some instruction from my dad, I can tell you given my new-found accounting abilities), I made just over $18,000 gross, though a little over $10,000 of that went to expenses (including my major truck purchase). So, that puts me at about $8,000 net. Not too bad for my first year! (I've heard that you don't really make any good money with a business till its third year)

Sure, there were some ups and downs, but overall I wouldn't trade last summer for anything! I look forward to another year of owning my business, and to seeing what the Lord will do with it. It is to God that all the praise is due, for He is the one who has allowed me to own this business and to grow through it. I thank God for His blessings!

So, here are some of my goals for Kyle's Clipper this year:

--Become fully licensed and insured
--Expand my service area to Morton, Onalaska, and Salkum (all within 25 miles still)
--"Upgrade all my equipment to commercial grade (which I have already done, in part, by purchasing a 52" zero turn mower and a 36" commercial walk-behind mower. :0D Another post coming on that!)
--Expand the number of widows I serve for no charge. This is something God has really laid on my heart, to consider my business as a way to serve. With James 1:27 in mind, I want to reach out to the widows in my community that truly need help with their lawn care.
--Have 50 steady lawns by the time the mowing season hits full blast
--To continue to offer weeding and manual labor services, but to "sub-contract" workers to do this for me, so that I can focus on lawn mowing. (which makes the most income)
--To have made $30,000 dollars in net income by the end of the year.

I know some of these goals may seem a little far-fetched, but I am confident that with the Lord's blessing, I can meet them. Please pray for my business, that the Lord will use it as He see fits and that it will continue to grow into something that I can make a living from. Pray for me personally that the Lord will direct my steps, keep my safe, and help me to be diligent with this business, as it is where I think He has led me for now.

What will this year hold for Kyle's Clipper? I can't wait to find out!

To Be Continued . . .

Hi everyone! The adventures of Joe Smith have hit a lull the last couple days, so I have decided to postpone writing the rest of the continuous story with y'all till January after Christmas and New Years. Where will Joe Smith, Martin Macintosh, and the newly created dwarf figure go next? That is up to you to decide when next we pick up the story! (you can read their previous adventures in the post below this one) :0)

Continuous Story--take 2!

Hello everyone! It's that time of year again! The rain is pouring down more often than not (at least here in WA), and come on, admit it--those outdoor activities just aren't as appealing, which means some of us have the tendency to get bored as we stare wistfully at the rainy weather out our window. It's rather depressing. Then again, I am reminded that every season offers special opportunities. Though we are less likely to venture outside, we are more likely to retreat to a warm corner of our house with a good story in hand. That's fun. Sort of.

Which gives me an idea: Instead of reading a good story, why don't we create one?

Last year we spun a fantastic tale of a wee lad named Tiny on this blog. You all pitched in, and we had one hilarious story on our hands by the time it was all said and done. (you can read the full post here:http://anextraordinaryexistence.blogspot.com/2013/12/i-need-your-help-blog-followers.html.  I thought it would be fun to do that again! Who's with me?

The only rules to writing this story are as follows:

1. I get to start it (the story).

2. Try to keep it unified. Let's keep characters to a few, and events well coordinated (in other words, try to keep the story following some logical sequence). Having said that, you can still surprise us, it can take twists and turns, and it can definitely be funny!

3. Unique handicap: (This is a rule.) You can only add one sentence at a time (but you can add a short exclamation such as Oh! along with your sentence), and your sentence must start with the letter the last person's sentence ended with.

4. You can post as many times as you want, but you cannot post just after your last addition. You have to let there be 2 sentences in between each of your turns.

So, let's get started! I will type the first sentence in the comment section below. To add to the story, simply add your sentence below mine in the comment section. I am looking forward to writing with you all!

Thanksgiving for a Sovereign God

This Thanksgiving, as I reflect on all that the Lord has done for me, I am especially grateful for His sovereignty. The more I read His Word, the more I am humbled by this truth: we are the clay in the hand of the Potter--not the potter of the clay. And the more I wrestle with this truth, the more I appreciate it. I am thankful, very thankful, that God is a sovereign God.

The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps.

(Proverbs 16:9 NASB)

 

It's an amazing thought that despite our free will, God is still in complete control. How are we to believe in the promises He has made to us otherwise? How do we know for sure that if we commit our works to the Lord, our plans will be established? (Proverbs 16:2) How do we know for sure that God will work all things together for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). Isn't it accurate to say that if God is not sovereign, than what kind of a god is He?

 

But praise be to the Lord, the Bible is overwhelmingly clear that God is completely sovereign! Nothing happens outside of His predetermined plan. He has never had or will ever need a "Plan B". Everything works together after the council of His will. (Ephesians 1:11) What an amazing truth this is, and what an amazing God we serve!

 

This is equally true of salvation. God is in sovereign control of all those He will draw to Himself, and even this is an immensely comforting truth, for we know that of all whom the Father draws, Christ will not lose a single one! (John 6:39,44) So then, it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy. (Romans 9:16)--and God is a merciful God!

 

 

Let us praise God for all He is and all He as done for us this Thanksgiving, amen?

 

 

A Psalm of Praise, of David. I will extol You, my God, O King, And I will bless Your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless You, And I will praise Your name forever and ever. Great is the LORD, and highly to be praised, And His greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall praise Your works to another, And shall declare Your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of Your majesty And on Your wonderful works, I will meditate. Men shall speak of the power of Your awesome acts, And I will tell of Your greatness. They shall eagerly utter the memory of Your abundant goodness And will shout joyfully of Your righteousness. The LORD is gracious and merciful; Slow to anger and great in lovingkindness. The LORD is good to all, And His mercies are over all His works. All Your works shall give thanks to You, O LORD, And Your godly ones shall bless You.

(Psalm 145:1-10 NASB)



The Heart in the Silver Birch Tree

Hi y'all! I've written a story for most every genre . . . Fantasy, Futuristic, Sci-Fi, Historical Fiction (barely), and just plain old fiction in general. I realized, though, that I have never written a God-honoring romance type story . . . So, I fixed that. ;0)

In all seriousness, I had this great idea for my first story on love--really, it shares my desires for what I believe a Christian romance should look like in contrast to what is typical today. Then I started writing the story, which I have titled "The Heart in The Silver Birch Tree" and realized how in over my head I was! In fact, my first line reads "Romance, who can understand it?" for more reasons than one. ;0) But after much tinkering, I am finally happy with the finished product, so I hope you enjoy reading this short story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The Heart in the Silver Birch Tree

To the amazing, beautiful young lady the Lord will lead me to someday. Claiming God’s grace and forgiveness for the mistakes in my past, may I keep my heart for you, complete and pure, so that my love legacy will not be one of a rotted stump, but of a vibrant, thriving tree.

-----

Romance, who can understand it? A man and a woman attracted to one another. Two lives intertwined. Two hearts falling for the other. Two souls bound forever. That’s how it should be.

But often it’s not. Hearts can be broken. Love can be lost. So beautiful, yet so dangerous. So pure, yet so easily defiled. How I wish I could understand it! But I am old now. I have experienced it all—first love, lost love, true love, enduring love—and I still am no closer to solving the mystery.

There is an old, rotted stump at the edge of my property, and it brings a pang to my heart every time I walk by it. So much heartbreak, so much pain. But no, there is joy now as well, for God is gracious. That stump was not always bug ridden and crumbling with decay. Once it was a beautiful Birch tree—thriving, it’s silver bark a sharp contrast to its cloak of dark green leaves.

A young boy roamed the land in the days when that Birch tree was vibrant and pure. He would splash across a clear trickling stream and throw himself on the lush green grass, eyes merry, head thrown back in laughter. How I can see him, even now! With legs outstretched and hands behind his head, he lay there under the Birch tree in the grass, dreaming of what he would become and what he would do.

She was there too, smiling down on the boy. Her brown hair was in beautiful disarray from running with the wind, her clear brown eyes sparkling. They had been friends from early in childhood, but as he held her gaze that moment, something changed forever. The boy was new to the mystery, but he did not wait for caution. His heart went out to the girl, and it seemed a small price to pay to love her, so pretty and perfect she seemed.  

The boy walked the girl home that afternoon feeling as if he was walking in the clouds. On the way back, he stopped by the Birch tree again. The boy knelt and carved a heart and a pair of initials deep in the silver bark of the tree and then threw himself back on the lush green grass. He gazed up into the silver and green canopy above him, now tinted golden with the last rays of the sunset, and at the heart carved at the base of the tree, and he dreamed another dream.

But it never came true. The boy loved the girl, and she loved him, but one day the girl’s eyes were not sparkling when she met the boy under the Birch tree. Her father had taken a job at the opposite corner of the nation, and they would be moving soon. She had come to say goodbye.

The boy swore to her that this wouldn’t be the end, that one day, when he was a man, he would come for her. The girl smiled sadly and promised to write him, and the next minute she was gone. He watched her go, helpless and brokenhearted. How he wished he was older and could somehow save the girl from leaving! But he was but a boy, and for the first time he wondered if it would have been better to wait till manhood to love.

They stayed in contact for a few months after the move, but overtime, the letters started coming longer apart, than not at all. The boy wandered aimlessly through the forest, no longer carefree and innocent, but sober and hurt. He found himself under the Birch tree one day, staring at the heart and initials carved into its trunk, and somehow the tree was less beautiful to him. He suddenly threw himself to his knees and removed his pocket knife, carving away feverishly at the heart and initials. In seconds, they were gone. But the pain wasn’t. He wanted to forget—but could not. For though the symbol of his lost love was gone, there was still a deep scar in the Birch tree.

The boy grew older, and then he met his second love. She was perfect, he thought—beautiful, smart, funny. They lived hours apart, but he found ways to keep in contact. Soon they were e-mailing every day, and he felt himself again giving his heart away. He was no longer completely naïve to the mystery, and caution warned him to be careful lest he be hurt again. But she was worth it, he thought. One fresh, crisp morning he splashed across the stream to the Birch tree, and clasping the same knife that had been used on the tree before, he carved a heart around another set of initials in the trunk. To him, it was a new beginning in every way, and he barely glanced down at the scar in the silver bark. It felt good, very good.

Months later, the boy used his knife to shave off strips of bark, till all that was left was another ragged scar. His stomach was tight, and he felt sick. How could this happen to him again? Yet though he had tried to rationalize and ignore it at first, he had learned from their e-mails how different he was from her, his second love, and she had too. The relationship had felt good, but now it was over. It hurt, almost more than it had ever been good. He promised himself that the next time he carved a heart in the Birch tree, it would hold the initials of his wife. In his grief, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Years passed, and the boy became a young man. He purchased a small chunk of land from his parents with the intention of building his own homestead on it, and 23 found him striding along the clear, trickling stream at the edge of his property. He glanced up at a withered, silver tree as he passed, and his stride faltered. A flood of memories came to mind.  A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he remembered a young boy stretched out under the tree, carefree and dreaming.  He had spent so much time like that!  But then his eyes traveled to the scars carved in the trunk , and his smile faded. He looked away quickly, not caring to count the scars. Not again. Not anymore. How quickly he had pushed aside his promise in the thralls of infatuation, but again and again the relationship had not lasted. He was so sure that she would be the one that it seemed silly to wait till the wedding day to carve anything more on the Birch tree, but he had been proved wrong so many times that he no longer cared to even think of the tree. It was dying now, perhaps from some disease, or perhaps from its scars. The young man shook his head and strode past.

A gust of wind played among the treetops, dislodging the last few crisp brown leaves from their precarious perch. With the wind came the sound of an axe ringing through the forest. The young man hacked away at the Birch tree. The biting wind seeped through his coat and gloves, but he kept swinging relentlessly, ignoring the cold. The rhythm of axe on wood was steady and unbroken. It was as if he wanted it this way, as if he was willing himself away from any other feeling. He needed firewood to last him through the winter, but deep down inside, that was not the only reason why he was cutting down the Birch tree.

The tree finally fell with a loud, splintering crash. It lay there on the frozen ground—a pathetic, leafless thing—and the young man stared numbly at it. But something inside him had snapped with the tree, and he tossed aside his axe and collapsed. He lay there once more in the grass, but he no longer dared to dream. Instead, the tears he had bound up for so long came loose, and he hugged his knees to his chest and sobbed silently.

I know the site of a young man in such a prideless position is foreign, but I hope you can understand what a broken, empty heart can do to a man. I can, for I was that young man.

Yes, it’s true. It is painful for me to tell my story, but I must in the hopes that you will see the truth in it. Some will say that heartbreak is just all a part of life, but I don’t believe it has to be that way.  I finally understand this at least: love was not made to be broken. It is made to thrive, to grow ever stronger till in death do us part. Thankfully, my story didn’t end that bleak winter day. I finally met the woman I was to marry, and 25 found me with a ring on my finger. I held my wife’s hand, and we walked together down a little, winding stream. She carried a shovel in her free hand. I carried a tender Birch sapling in mine.

Together, we planted that Birch tree by the stream. It was a symbol to me of a new chapter in my life, a commitment to the everlasting love I would have for the woman beside me. For a long while we sat together in the lush green grass, her head on my shoulder, and admired our work. The little Birch tree, as twig-like and unaspiring as it was as a sapling, seemed all the more beautiful to me. At the same time, my eyes traveled to a rotting stump a short distance away, and I smiled sadly. Yes, the hurt was still there, but the joy and contentment was so much stronger than that now. I pulled my wife closer and kissed her. My dream had finally come true.

In a few years, the children came, and I was launched into the daunting occupation of a father. How often I needed God’s grace to raise my family! I strove to train them up in the Lord, and praise be to Him alone, my children all accepted Christ even from a young age! My family grew and thrived just like the little Birch tree at the corner of our property.

My oldest son reached the teen years, and hormones took over. One day I took him to the old, rotted stump and told him my story. How I wanted something more for him than what I had gone through! I cried out to God that He would help my son keep his heart pure and undefiled for the young woman he would marry.

My son saw my pain, and he saw my love for him. I will never forget the day that he came to me and promised that his love legacy would be different. In the same breath he implored my help, for he was just as baffled with the mystery as I was. And it was hard. My son noticed quite a few pretty girls, of course, and then the time came where he was interested in one in particular. It was all he could do to keep his feelings for her in check. He began to question if it was all that wrong to start pursuing the girl, and I implored him to hold fast to his promise to guard his heart as I had been unable to do. I urged him to give it time. He was still so young, and so much could change before he was actually ready for marriage.

And they did, of course. The girl turned out not to be the one the Lord intended for my son, but praise be to God that he didn’t have to find that out the hard way! You could often find my son down by the Birch tree in those days, sprawled out on the grass, reading the Bible I had given him. I smiled when I saw him down there. Like father like son, a Birch tree had become a part of his young life too. He asked me once if I would mind if he carved a heart and a pair of initials in the tree when he was married. I told him that nothing would make me happier.

The Birch tree grew stout and vibrant, and in much the same way, my son matured into manhood. Finally, the waiting was over. For several years his friendship with a certain young lady had grown only stronger, and after much prayer, my son decided to pursue a relationship with her. In the season of courtship that followed, he got to know her better and seriously evaluate if she would be a good match, and every day they drew closer together. Still, though it must have been hard at times, he waited to carve a heart in the Birch tree, steadfast in his promise.

At long last, there was a wedding ceremony. My son kissed his bride for the first time that day, and with that kiss he gave her his heart, complete and pure, to love, honor and protect her all the days of his life for as long as they both shall live. What a joyous day that was!

They had a honeymoon to run off to, but their first stop was at the corner of our property. They splashed across a little stream hand in hand and ran across a bank of lush green grass till they stopped before a lone, silver tree. They were still in their wedding clothes—my son in his tuxedo, my daughter-in-law in her gown—but they didn’t seem to mind.

What they did next can still be seen to this day. My son knelt down, and with great care he carved a heart and a pair of initials in the silver Birch tree.