It was a nice spring day when I experienced something a little strange. I was working in the yard and had a daydream. It stopped me at what I was doing for what seemed like minutes. It kind of felt like a brain fart when you think “what was I doing?” It left me with a question “What are my gifts?” I pondered my green thumb and my ability to build things and then the thoughts drifted away as I trimmed some low branches and busied myself with the yard work.
Three days later I was sitting on a bench in the yard admiring my handywork when I had the daydream again. Same as before but this time I paid a little more attention. I was sitting at a table with a grass umbrella over my head. The fruity drink in front of me had a colorful umbrella in it and it was in a pottery tiki glass.
There are three friends sitting at the table with me. I know they are friends, but I do not recognize them. We were sharing our life’s experiences and comparing notes. The older guy had a nose on him that looked like Jamie Farr’s from Mash so I figure he might be Lebanese or Turkish. His clothing was hand loomed and coarse from a different era than mine.
The guy across from me was in his forties and a little rugged. He said was a gardener and pig farmer. I grew up on a dairy and we hit it right off with stories of caring for animals and the funny things that happen when they have a mind of their own. We agreed that our caring for animals extended to caring for people too or maybe it was the other way around.
Though I did not know these guys I was amazed at how similar our experiences were. The older guy had been a merchant, buying and selling things as he traveled from place to place with two oxen and a large wagon. He told stories that made you feel like you were there, and he laughed when I praised him for his storytelling skills. He smiled and told how in each new place he came to; the people would want to know where he came from and the news of that place and others. He learned from his father that the more news he had and the better the stories, the more likely he would be invited to share a meal at a fine house.
The young guy on my right had been nowhere yet and I think we might have occasionally tweaked our stories just a bit to scare him about what was coming for him. He listened carefully and occasionally wide-eyed to the things we shared. I mentioned my wife and his attention grew as we shared stories of our personal lives, wives, children, relatives and in-laws.
Though our time and our cultures were different, we laughed at so many common things in our lives. The old guy only got home for a few days every month and for those few days his wife would hen peck him about being gone, not eating well, his clothing, and how he should be charging more for his supplies. On and on she would go about little things and he would just smile. Because all the time she busied herself with his shortcomings she was also treating him like a king and making sure the children were respectful of their father.
The gardener had had two wives. His first was a fine home maker and very social with all the neighbors. They had two boys and a girl. After she passed when the kids were young, he married a widow with one girl child slightly older than his. She was a good wife and partner in the garden. Her father had raised Hogs and fed them the rotten things from the garden. With her father's help they had started with two pregnant sows. He laughed and said he never started out to be a hog farmer but pretty soon he was not selling as many veggies at the market but pork.
I told him how my great grandfather had grown giant banana squash to feed the hogs and they lasted all winter. The old guy said he always liked being invited to share a meal by a farmer's wife because it may be simple but was a robust meal. We talked about our wives, their cooking, sewing, attention to us and children for quite a while for those were the stories closest to our hearts.
I had noticed the water just ten feet away from our table and then there was bigger water just beyond that. I glanced towards the pool and lake occasionally and then I saw someone approaching us. He wore a tan robe tied at the waist, shoulder length hair and a beard.
His brown eyes glistened as he came to our table and rose to greet him. He hugged me warmly and said Hello Bob, glad to see you back! How was the Trip? I was almost at a loss for words and said “Oh it was amazing; I was in the high desert and the sunrises thrilled my heart and the sunsets were often breathtaking. The mountains were so spectacular, and I loved caring for the animals that fed me. And people, they seemed to forget who they were and became most amusing but sometimes hurtful. Yea, people were crazy but it was fantastic”.
With a broad smile He said, “ I am glad you had a great time.” Then with excitement in his voice He asked, “And what did you do with the gifts I gave you?”
Then it was gone, So much in just those seconds yet what lingered with me was His question. “What did you do with the gifts I gave you?” I rewound those moments many times. The question was asked with a little excitement to hear the reply, Never in a tone of me not doing enough but wanting to know.
Three days later I was repairing the roof on my wood shed and again I am sitting with my friends, under the grass umbrella sharing stories. I listened more closely seeing that the old man lived in the 1400s. He had traveled in what is now southern Hungary in the time of the Mongols. Though he never encountered them the stories were scary enough.
In sharing our stories, I learned that the Gardener/hog farmer had also been a stone carver, chiseling names in head stones for folks in his village. He lived on the eastern slopes of the Andes mountains near Santiago Chile in the mid 1800s at the same time my great great grandparents were settling on the East slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains in a place known as Sierra valley California.
We were amused by the things that we had in common so far away in time and places. They were almost disbelieving as I told them of our technology today. We noticed that the easier life got the less we depended on family, friends and neighbors. We agreed that those were the best things in life. The old merchant agreed that through all of his traveling and adventures, going back home was the highlight of each trip. When his two sons took over his trade route he still traded locally and spent time in the garden and much more time with children and grandchildren.
Once again Jesus came walking towards us and when He stopped our table He welcomed me home with open arms, asked me how I liked the trip? I shared my wonder at the things I saw and then he looked into my eyes and asked. “And what did you do with the gifts I gave you”
I lingered in the silence after that moment. Weighing each word and picturing His face as He spoke. His expression was one of anticipation and excitement. I remember the feeling when one of my daughters would return from an adventure or even something as simple as a day at school or a Friday night date. I did not ask to be sure that they had done everything right. It was in anticipation of hearing what they had done, the joy they shared with others and what they learned about themselves and others and always hoping to hear their joy.
That is what I heard in His voice and what I saw on His face. I realized He had given me gifts to feed and clothe my family. Gifts to protect myself and those I love. Gifts to serve others. In all the stories we shared of adventures and accomplishments the stories we often do not share are the gifts we give to others. It may sound boastful or self-serving but in all the things I have done in this life my greatest value has been when I helped another person.
In this life I often feel that I am following Him. Following His example. If this is true then looking at His life, His greatest moments were when He helped others. It is told in countless texts of His service to others.
This vision came a total of five times. I smiled when it came again and watched it play out because I knew that the question did not need an answer, it was just to make me aware of the gifts I was given and that sharing them blesses my life. I have shared my gifts and there is more to share for the stories of our lives are our Life’s treasures.
Have you looked at your life and realized the gifts you were given and how you have touched the lives of others when you share them? You may not even think of them as gifts but to the person who received those moments of you in their life it might have meant everything.
When I was a missionary in Papua New Guinea, there was a pastor who had a Wednesday night meeting and on that night people shared the gifts they had given to someone. this was a night of telling what good deeds you had done this week. Some people questioned the point of telling your good deeds but the pastor saw it as a way of encouraging people to do good things for others. We kind of shy away from boasting but wouldn't it be nice to hear good things on the news. We are at our best when we help another.
Three days later I was sitting on a bench in the yard admiring my handywork when I had the daydream again. Same as before but this time I paid a little more attention. I was sitting at a table with a grass umbrella over my head. The fruity drink in front of me had a colorful umbrella in it and it was in a pottery tiki glass.
There are three friends sitting at the table with me. I know they are friends, but I do not recognize them. We were sharing our life’s experiences and comparing notes. The older guy had a nose on him that looked like Jamie Farr’s from Mash so I figure he might be Lebanese or Turkish. His clothing was hand loomed and coarse from a different era than mine.
The guy across from me was in his forties and a little rugged. He said was a gardener and pig farmer. I grew up on a dairy and we hit it right off with stories of caring for animals and the funny things that happen when they have a mind of their own. We agreed that our caring for animals extended to caring for people too or maybe it was the other way around.
Though I did not know these guys I was amazed at how similar our experiences were. The older guy had been a merchant, buying and selling things as he traveled from place to place with two oxen and a large wagon. He told stories that made you feel like you were there, and he laughed when I praised him for his storytelling skills. He smiled and told how in each new place he came to; the people would want to know where he came from and the news of that place and others. He learned from his father that the more news he had and the better the stories, the more likely he would be invited to share a meal at a fine house.
The young guy on my right had been nowhere yet and I think we might have occasionally tweaked our stories just a bit to scare him about what was coming for him. He listened carefully and occasionally wide-eyed to the things we shared. I mentioned my wife and his attention grew as we shared stories of our personal lives, wives, children, relatives and in-laws.
Though our time and our cultures were different, we laughed at so many common things in our lives. The old guy only got home for a few days every month and for those few days his wife would hen peck him about being gone, not eating well, his clothing, and how he should be charging more for his supplies. On and on she would go about little things and he would just smile. Because all the time she busied herself with his shortcomings she was also treating him like a king and making sure the children were respectful of their father.
The gardener had had two wives. His first was a fine home maker and very social with all the neighbors. They had two boys and a girl. After she passed when the kids were young, he married a widow with one girl child slightly older than his. She was a good wife and partner in the garden. Her father had raised Hogs and fed them the rotten things from the garden. With her father's help they had started with two pregnant sows. He laughed and said he never started out to be a hog farmer but pretty soon he was not selling as many veggies at the market but pork.
I told him how my great grandfather had grown giant banana squash to feed the hogs and they lasted all winter. The old guy said he always liked being invited to share a meal by a farmer's wife because it may be simple but was a robust meal. We talked about our wives, their cooking, sewing, attention to us and children for quite a while for those were the stories closest to our hearts.
I had noticed the water just ten feet away from our table and then there was bigger water just beyond that. I glanced towards the pool and lake occasionally and then I saw someone approaching us. He wore a tan robe tied at the waist, shoulder length hair and a beard.
His brown eyes glistened as he came to our table and rose to greet him. He hugged me warmly and said Hello Bob, glad to see you back! How was the Trip? I was almost at a loss for words and said “Oh it was amazing; I was in the high desert and the sunrises thrilled my heart and the sunsets were often breathtaking. The mountains were so spectacular, and I loved caring for the animals that fed me. And people, they seemed to forget who they were and became most amusing but sometimes hurtful. Yea, people were crazy but it was fantastic”.
With a broad smile He said, “ I am glad you had a great time.” Then with excitement in his voice He asked, “And what did you do with the gifts I gave you?”
Then it was gone, So much in just those seconds yet what lingered with me was His question. “What did you do with the gifts I gave you?” I rewound those moments many times. The question was asked with a little excitement to hear the reply, Never in a tone of me not doing enough but wanting to know.
Three days later I was repairing the roof on my wood shed and again I am sitting with my friends, under the grass umbrella sharing stories. I listened more closely seeing that the old man lived in the 1400s. He had traveled in what is now southern Hungary in the time of the Mongols. Though he never encountered them the stories were scary enough.
In sharing our stories, I learned that the Gardener/hog farmer had also been a stone carver, chiseling names in head stones for folks in his village. He lived on the eastern slopes of the Andes mountains near Santiago Chile in the mid 1800s at the same time my great great grandparents were settling on the East slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains in a place known as Sierra valley California.
We were amused by the things that we had in common so far away in time and places. They were almost disbelieving as I told them of our technology today. We noticed that the easier life got the less we depended on family, friends and neighbors. We agreed that those were the best things in life. The old merchant agreed that through all of his traveling and adventures, going back home was the highlight of each trip. When his two sons took over his trade route he still traded locally and spent time in the garden and much more time with children and grandchildren.
Once again Jesus came walking towards us and when He stopped our table He welcomed me home with open arms, asked me how I liked the trip? I shared my wonder at the things I saw and then he looked into my eyes and asked. “And what did you do with the gifts I gave you”
I lingered in the silence after that moment. Weighing each word and picturing His face as He spoke. His expression was one of anticipation and excitement. I remember the feeling when one of my daughters would return from an adventure or even something as simple as a day at school or a Friday night date. I did not ask to be sure that they had done everything right. It was in anticipation of hearing what they had done, the joy they shared with others and what they learned about themselves and others and always hoping to hear their joy.
That is what I heard in His voice and what I saw on His face. I realized He had given me gifts to feed and clothe my family. Gifts to protect myself and those I love. Gifts to serve others. In all the stories we shared of adventures and accomplishments the stories we often do not share are the gifts we give to others. It may sound boastful or self-serving but in all the things I have done in this life my greatest value has been when I helped another person.
In this life I often feel that I am following Him. Following His example. If this is true then looking at His life, His greatest moments were when He helped others. It is told in countless texts of His service to others.
This vision came a total of five times. I smiled when it came again and watched it play out because I knew that the question did not need an answer, it was just to make me aware of the gifts I was given and that sharing them blesses my life. I have shared my gifts and there is more to share for the stories of our lives are our Life’s treasures.
Have you looked at your life and realized the gifts you were given and how you have touched the lives of others when you share them? You may not even think of them as gifts but to the person who received those moments of you in their life it might have meant everything.
When I was a missionary in Papua New Guinea, there was a pastor who had a Wednesday night meeting and on that night people shared the gifts they had given to someone. this was a night of telling what good deeds you had done this week. Some people questioned the point of telling your good deeds but the pastor saw it as a way of encouraging people to do good things for others. We kind of shy away from boasting but wouldn't it be nice to hear good things on the news. We are at our best when we help another.
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