Silently Testifying

For those who live in the Great Plains, or have traveled through it, old homesteads and old farms are a regular part of the scenery. Since I have lived in one part of the Great Plains or another for over half of my life, I sometimes don't notice them while traveling through. But yesterday (Sunday, 04SEP2016) was different. I had been in Kansas for a family reunion and was driving home. Using Google Maps, I was driving on a road that I don't recall driving on before. Being the Labor Day Weekend, and the typical Sunday in the Country, not a whole lot of people were out. So, I have a very quiet drive.

My daughter had fallen asleep, so I was drinking in the open roads, the country music that I had playing on my iPod, and watching the scenery roll by. It was a very relaxing time for me.

Just sound of the Nebraska boarder on Kansas HWY 99, I saw something that really perked my interested. As I crested a hill, an series of old farm buildings appeared before me. Seeing that the road was empty, I slowed down and took a series of pictures. Yes, I often looked around to make sure that things were safe. No a single car appeared during this time. It was as if God was purposefully wanting me to really drink this experience up. It also really got me thinging...

To what were these buildings silently testifying to? What kind of joys were celebrated here? What kind of sorrows were grieved here? Did the generations that lived here have thankful hearts to how God provided? Did they have challous hearts because of the hardships they had to endure?

Why was the farm abandoned? Did the children loose interest in making things grow? Did they feel called to different careers? Or, did they simply want what they felt would be an easier life doing something else?

Judging by the size of the house, they were doing well at some point in time. When people first started farming in the Great Plains, especially the original Homesteaders, the original homes were not big at all. Often times, they were little more than simple cabins or sod houses. But, if God blessed the people enough that they could afford to build something nicer, then they often would. Or, in the case of a simple cabin orignally, they would consistantly add on as the family grew and they could afford to do so.

Those of us who have lived here on the Plains for any length of time know how challenging it can be. From the hot, sometimes dry summers, to the sometimes bitter cold winters with very dangerous blizzards. Some families have kept their homesteads for generations. Some have even grown and grown. Still others have struggled, sold parcel after parcel of land off, until they have little to nothing left.

Being someone who loves history, I have learned that each place has many, many stories to tell. Even famous places like Gettysburg, PA; Salem, MA; The Alamo, TX; and others each have a history that they are famous for. But yet, each of them have very personal histories. Histories that are unique as each and every individual who lives there.

Over the years, my interest in world history has gradually evolved into an interest in family history. That is, geneology. Just like history, geneology is a science and an art. There are many things that you can discover through painstaking research. But, there are things that you will never know for sure. For example, you can learn for sure what a person's address was at a specific time, and possibly which church he/she attended (or was a member of) and what kind of job he/she might have had. You may be lucking to find a newspaper article or two that describes something that they did or said. But, more often than not, things like the friends that they had, how much they enjoyed life, what they though of the house or apartment that they lived in, etc., are things you have to guess at.

Because I was coming home from a family reunion, these kinds of thoughts were fresh in my mind. Maybe the family that lived in the modern house across the highway were decendants of the family that once lived on the old farm? Or, maybe the family has long moved on? Maybe someone in the family had kept a diary of their experiences? Maybe someone in the family enjoys geneology and has written about their experiences? Or, maybe the buildings will forever silently testify to what happened within their walls?

One last thought... We all have stories to tell. We all have experiences that have greatly touched our lives. Some of them are good, some of them are painful, some of them are down right histarical. But, stories we have none-the-less. For those of us who are followers of Christ, we have many stories about what He has done in our lives. These are stories that we should be willing to share, too. Whether they are joyful ones, sad ones, or times of great frustration with God, they are still our stories, our testamonies, as to what He has done in our lives. You never know how God can use your personal experiences in the life of someone else. I know that He has often surprised me!

This weekend as we celebrate Labor Day, let's take some time to reflect together on our personal experiences. During our get-togethers with friends and families, let us share these joys and sarrows. Not only do shared experiences help one generation bond with another, but they can be a key that unlocks something in the life of someone else. You just never know what God will do. Just know and trust that He will do something.