A Faithful Shepherd

As newlyweds, the beloved Swede and I opened up the Yellow Pages to find local churches to visit in hopes of finding one we could call home.  (Note to young readers:  In the days when my hair was brown and the dinosaurs roamed the earth, before there was Google, people used things called phone books to find addresses and phone numbers.  Listings for businesses were in the yellow pages.  We dialed up the numbers on phones with things called rotary dials.  The Smithsonian probably has some of these things on exhibit).

In any case, we found a listing for a presbyterian church and, since we'd both known a few presbyterians in our time and found them to be relatively normal, we called the pastor.  We were delighted to find that he was a Penn State graduate, so we trusted his theology to be sound and visited his church.  After our first visit, we looked no further.

Last summer, the beloved Swede and I celebrated twenty-five years of marriage.  We have lived out our marriage in the context of this local congregation and our pastor has ministered faithfully to us throughout the entirety of our adult married life.  We will probably never know, this side of eternity, how richly our marriage has been strengthened and blessed by his ministry.

Our pastor has been preaching recently through the book of Jeremiah.  Jeremiah was called to preach judgment against the faithless shepherds who were leading God's beloved people astray.  In contrast, the Lord promised, after disciplining his people through exile, to restore them and set faithful shepherds over them who would care for them.  Faithful shepherds are a blessing and God's gift of love to His people.

Yesterday, my church celebrated the 30th anniversary of our pastor's ministry to our local congregation.  He is, indeed, a faithful shepherd and evidence of God's blessing.  And I am grateful.

Continuing to number the gifts:


246. Celebrating thirty years of service by our beloved pastor—a faithful shepherd.

247. The first twist cone of the season at the local soft-serve ice cream place=summertime in a cone.

248. Sleeping with the bedroom window open, smelling fresh air all throughout the next day.

249. Violets and the memory of bringing handpicked bouquets of them home to my mom to be displayed in a vase improvised from a Chocks vitamin jar.

250. Flowering trees, bushes, and plants so stunning I had to tap on my brakes and slow down to drink in their beauty.

251. A normal mammogram.

252. A friend receiving her good news just before leaving for family vacation.

253. Celebrating the way God has ministered to her through the prayers of so many.

254. The preaching of the gospel in a prominent liberal church; the four busloads of students who heard it at the funeral of their beloved teacher.

255. Getting to hang with the lovely ladies of RUF (Reformed University Fellowship).

256. April vacation and mornings that I can linger in my pajamas with my coffee.

257. Godly grandparents and the son’s willingness to spend his April vacation with them.