“God’s invisible qualities, like His eternal power and divine nature, are clearly seen and understood through the world He created.” (Romans 1:20)
There are 525,600 minutes in a year. My father, Henry, lived nearly 87 years on a small farm (present-day Country Dairy) in Western Michigan. As remarkable as that is, when one converts these years into minute-long moments, it’s somewhat staggering to realize that Henry lived approximately 45 million moments on the farm, in the house of his heavenly Father, where the earthly elements of his daily work – soil, rocks, clods, seeds, cows and trees — took on spiritual significance. (Where he worshipped his Maker, and formed a deep, intimate relationship with his Lord and Savior. )
As cows chew their cud (ruminate) for nine hours a day to break down tough, fibrous material, improve digestion, and absorb nutrients, Henry, as he did his chores, ruminated on scripture verses he’d memorized, until their meaning was digested, sank deep into his soul, and forged a rock-solid faith in God. For example:
As Henry removed rocks from the soil and piled them underneath the mighty maple that graced the fields, he likely thought of this verse: “Early the next morning, Jacob took the stone he had used for a pillow and set it up as a pillar.” (Genesis 28:16) “And Jacob said to his kinsmen, ‘Gather the stones into a great heap,’ and they ate there.” (Genesis 31:46)*
My father was not a pantheist, believing in a grand, generic concept that “God is All, and All is God.” While pantheists identify God as the force of the universe, they deny the existence of a transcendent, personal Creator. Henry had a deep reverence for creation and viewed the earth (where he worked) as divine, in the sense that he found God in his work. However, Henry's God was a distinct Being separate from the world He created. Pantheism removes this distinction, viewing God as the sum total of existence and not a distinct person – the “I Am” of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
Henry knew what pantheists can never know: when he prayed the prayer Jesus taught His followers to pray, “Our Father…,” it meant that since God is divine, His children must essentially be divine too - a truth established by St. Augustine: “…Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.”
Henry found rest and peace at home, on the farm, in the country and in God’s house.
When he was away, his soul hankered for the quiet tranquility of the country. Though traveling was limited while Henry owned the farm, after retirement, my parents (Henry, rather reluctantly) traveled farther afield. My brother, Wendell, recalls that once, when Henry and Ellen settled into their hotel room abroad in London, Henry mused, “What am I doing here?” It was probably in London that he remembered the words of a country pastor: “City people and country people are just knowledgeable about different things.” (Vance Havner – "Pleasant Paths")
Another time, in his later years, when he was hospitalized, Henry became disoriented, confused and agitated. We watched him repeatedly lift his arms and claw the air. Worried, we sang hymns to calm him. When he returned home, he explained that he’d been picking cherries. Of course! It seemed perfectly reasonable to him, so cleverly had his subconscious found something familiar and comforting to do in an unfamiliar situation. No matter where he was, he was a man of the country at heart, and remained so ‘til his death. ("In the Garden," pg. 130)
My mother found comfort in the fact that he went to meet his Maker from home, on the farm where he had spent 87 years and over 45 million moments.
