Greetings Dear Reader,
I drink my coffee sweet and light. I usually have cream that is flavored. It is how I like it. It is like having a hot milkshake in the morning. On my Friday breakfasts at my favorite diner
I have half and half. When I returned
from vacation my refrigerator was void of my usual coffee lightener. I did have some condensed milk and chose to
use it.
This was the lightener of choice that my Grandfather Sam
used. He used to drink his coffee out of
a white ceramic cup. He often drank it
saucered and blowed. My coffee for the
last few mornings has deeply reminded me of him. I miss him even though he has been gone since
I was nine.
I try in so many ways to be like him. I often think that he would have much to say
about my failures. He could always make
me see the right path through things in a gentle and loving way. I wish my Children could have known him.
As I sip my coffee and fill this page I wonder what he would
think of the world. It was drinking his
coffee in the morning that often triggered his musings to me. He would talk about things going on in the
world and remind me that we needed to love everyone. He would remind me that even the criminals in
the news were worthy of love.
More than once we were driving in Atlanta and he pulled over
and gave his coat to someone waiting for the bus because they were cold. He would take me to visit members of his
congregation who were home bound because he said I cheered them up. His faith had hands and feet like I imagine
Christ wants us all to be.
I have many things I would like to discuss with him. As I approach the mark of living alone for a
year (not by my choice) I have many things that weigh on my mind. He would listen. He always did. He would hear me. He did that even when I was silent. He would know what to say.
I talk about Sam often in
Sheetrock
on the Road. He shaped much of my
thinking with his thundering velvet ways.
He was a gentle irresistible force for love and grace. It is what we are all supposed to be as
Christ followers. When I catch up to him
I hope that I can share a story or two that he enjoys.
Just a simple preacher from the Carolina hills
Born in just the perfect place and time
A gentle loving mountain man
With warm and sparkling eyes
And a face that wrinkled from a constant smile
From you I learned the kind of faith that looked up to the
mountain
From you I saw just what I’d like to be
Oh Grandad I wish you could be here to tell me what to do
For I first saw the light of Christ in you
It must have been a special love that filled your shepherd’s
heart
That made you care so deeply for your flock
Cause I heard tell on winter days
You always gave your coat away
Simply because you thought they’d need it more
From you I learned the kind of faith that looked up to the
mountain
From you I saw just what I’d like to be
Oh Grandad I wish you could be here to tell me what to do
For I first saw the light of Christ in you
Even though we never got to know each other well
I thank the Lord for that one special night
When somewhere between the earth and sky
We silently met eye to eye
And I got the hug I needed for so long
From you I learned the kind of faith that looked up to the
mountain
From you I saw just what I’d like to be
Oh Grandad I wish you could be here to tell me what to do
For I first saw the light of Christ in you
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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