LXXXIV

BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS: FOR THEY SHALL BE CALLED THE CHILDREN OF GOD

MATTHEW 5:9

CAPTAIN KIRK (AKA PASTOR SAMSON)

“Grandpa, how come you didn’t answer your phone?” Sevenia asked as she ran up to me panting. I wasn’t actually her grandfather, but I loved it when she recently had started referring to me with that title. To me, it was more of an honor than being called Pastor or Captain.

“As you can see, I’m working in the garden,” I replied with a chuckle. “Even if I was sixty years younger, that phone wouldn’t be glued to my hand.”

“I tried your house, you weren’t there. I tried Destiny and Brock’s, they said you were planning to work in your garden. I went back to your house, looked for you in the garden, and you weren’t there. Then I remembered the garden here behind the church. Come on, we don’t even have twenty minutes. Let’s go!”

“Where are we going?” I frowned, wondering what the emergency was. I scrambled from my knees to my feet so fast that I forgot to groan. “Where do we have to be in twenty minutes?”

She had taken me by the hand and was briskly walking me to her light blue Dodge Dart.

“What’s going on, is somebody hurt?”

“No, no, nothing like that. We’re going to your brother’s house.”

I stopped in my tracks, and Sevenia jerked to a stop, reminding of a dog coming to the end of its leash as it tried to chase a cat.

“I think not, Kiddo.”

“Come on, Pastor, there’s no time for tomfoolery.”

“Tomfoolery?”

“Come on, we don’t have time to dillydally.”

“Now hold your horses. I’m not going to my brother’s.”

“Come on, Grandpa, we need to go.”

“Wait a minute. Were you with Sonny?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And he wants to see me?”

“I think so.”

“You think so, you don’t know so?”

“He’s kind of a grumpy guy, and hard to read, but I do believe he would like to see you.”

“You actually had a conversation with him?”

“Yes, I did.”

“He didn’t tell you to git?”

“Actually he did.”

“Then how did you end up talking to him?”

“I persisted.”

“And he allowed it?”

“Yes, he invited me into his home. He even said he liked my spunk.”

“You don’t say,” I responded, completely dumbfounded.

“Yes, so let’s go, time is fleeting.”

“Now wait a minute. He put a time restraint on seeing me? Now that doesn’t sound like he really wants to see me at all.”

“No, he didn’t put any time restraint on you.”

“Then why are you harping that we need to get going and running out of time?”

“I told him I could have you to his place within the hour. Apparently he didn’t believe you would come. He said if I did have you there within the hour, he would eat his hat.”

I processed what she just said and laughed. “And you’re going to hold him to it?”

“You bet I am. I noticed a hat sitting on the back of a chair, and as soon as you two are done exchanging pleasantries, I’m going to hand it to him.”

I chuckled as I felt such deep affection for my granddaughter, but she needed to be warned. “I wouldn’t be too confident about the exchange of pleasantries.”

“Grandpa, please don’t tell me you’re holding some sort of grudge at being rejected in the past?”

“No, no, Dear One,” I replied. “I will come in all meekness, and lowliness of heart, hoping and praying for true reconciliation. But I don’t think you understand the depth of animosity my brother has held toward me.”

“He’s lonely and hurting, Sir,” Sevenia said somberly, her lower lip trembling slightly.

I have met many people over my years who have inspired me with their level of spirituality, but none like Sevenia. She was only seventeen years old, she’d say almost eighteen, and she was as bold as a lion, speaking and living truth. Yet she was as sensitive as a little bunny when it came to caring and compassion.

“His wife was admitted to a nursing home a few weeks ago,” she continued.

“Wilma? A nursing home?”

“Yes, it sounds like Alzheimer’s,” Sevenia explained. “He said more often than not she doesn’t recognize their niece or even him.”

“Must be Coleen. Clint and Wilma were exceptionally close to her sister’s daughter. Like Sammy and me, Clint and Wilma had no children.”

“So other than Coleen, does Clint have anyone he’s close to?”

“I have no idea. He shut me out of his life decades ago.”

“Well, let’s change that,” Sevenia said, taking my hand again and pulling me toward her car.

About five minutes later, we pulled in front of my brother’s house. I wasn’t nervous, I was excited. Maybe it was old age, hopefully it was spiritual maturity, but nothing really made me nervous anymore. Even with the demonic possession and deliverance of Lexi Gomez, I felt shielded by God and sensed the protection of holy angels.

(The case of Lexi Gomez was in the first couple entries posted September 2019)

As we made our way up the sidewalk to my brother’s house, he surprisingly stepped out onto the stoop and stared disbelieving at me. I smiled broadly and said, “Hello, Sonny.”

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he croaked, and then said with a chuckle. “Maybe I should say look at the big ugly oaf the pretty little kitten dragged up my walk.”

I chuckled. “It’s good to see you, Sonny.”

“Likewise Sa…Kirk,” he said, and then his face fell as he realized the reason I hadn’t been known as Sammy for more than sixty years. “I’m really sorry about Sammy.”

I nodded as he acknowledged the passing of my wife three years ago.

“I should have…” he said and then jammed his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground. “I don’t know…”

“Wilma sent a card,” I told him. “You signed it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. By the way, your penmanship has gotten quite feminine over the years.”

He chuckled, then sobered and said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to… You know, see me… I mean especially at a time like that… I…”

“Forget about it, Sonny. I understand,” I assured him.

“Do you want to come in?” my brother asked.

“I’d love to.”

The house smelled like canned air freshener with the unmistakable smell of cigar behind it. We had barely sat down when Sevenia presented Sonny with a Cardinals baseball cap that had been sitting on the back of a chair.

“What’s this?” Sonny growled mildly, as his fluffy white brows furrowed and he ran a hand over the white bristles on his head.

“It’s your hat, Sir,” Sevenia said with utter seriousness. “You said if I had your brother here within the hour, you’d eat your hat.”

He chuckled, and then acknowledged. “I guess I did.”

“Alright then, I want to see you keep to your word,” Sevenia demanded with an amazingly straight face.

Sonny looked confused, then annoyed before he said, “You ever hear of a figure of speech?”

“I heard you boldly declare hat consumption if I delivered, and I aim to see it.”

“What, are you some kind of nut?” Sonny barked, reminiscent of his days as a drill instructor in the Marine Corps.

To my astonishment, Sevenia placed a thumb and forefinger between his chin and ordered, “Open up!”

He gently slapped her hand away and laughed. “You little pistol! By golly, I am going to eat this thing.”

He grabbed the hat from Sevenia and began to gnaw on it. She laughed heartily, as did I. I admired her fearlessness with teasing an old curmudgeon like my brother. I also loved her wisdom and ability to break the ice between Sonny and myself with playfulness at our reunion.

As soon as the merriment subsided, Sevenia asked, “Do you gentlemen mind if I run an errand, and come back in twenty or thirty minutes?”

My brother and I both said that we didn’t mind. I noticed a bit of a twinkle in Sonny’s eye. After she left, he said, “That there is a little spitfire. She’d make a great Marine.”

“She’d make a great a lot of things,” I replied, and then frowned at the way it sounded.

“She was a God send, you know,” my brother said quietly.

I only had an idea of what he meant so I asked, “What do you mean?”

“Kirk, I played the fool all these years,” he said somberly. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, Sonny,” I responded. “And I’m sorry if I didn’t handle things appropriately myself.”

“Nope,” he blurted, and then lit a cigar. He puffed on it a few times and then set it in ash tray. “It’s all my fault. I’m stubborn, prideful and, as Wilma would say, bullheaded.”

I nodded, bowed my head, and thought a little pray for him. I thought I heard him whimper, and I looked up. With trembling fingers, he picked up his cigar, took a couple puffs, and placed it in the ash tray again.

“I’ve been so lonely the last couple weeks,” he said. “What with Wilma going into a nursing home. Actually the last few months since she usually doesn’t know me anymore. She has Alzheimer’s, Kirk. It’s pretty bad now.”

“I gathered as much from what Sevenia told me,” I replied.

He snorted a laugh. “I thought she was a pesky kid selling something at first. Turns out, she was a little angel.”

I chuckled. “Funny you should say that. When she came into my life not long after Sammy died, I often thought she was a little angel, too. She quickly became one of the best friends I ever had, outside of Sammy.”

“Yes indeed,” Sonny said quietly. “That little angel brought me my big brother, right when I needed him the most.”

Sonny did something I hadn’t seen him do in almost eighty years. He cried. The last time I witnessed my younger brother sob, our Border Collie Mitsi had just died. He was five years old, and I was seven. I did what I did almost eight decades ago. I hugged my little brother.

WRITER’S NOTE

FAIR WARNING: Starting with the next post I will be going a different direction with the story line. It will be both a new beginning, and a bit of a return to the origin of the story with Seven Sallie, Sevenia’s father, and the battle for his soul. It will involve angels, in particular two, one fallen and one unfallen. I hope you join me, and thank you for reading thus far!

For those interested, I will still be adding ‘Destiny’s Notes’ at the end of each entry, even though they may have nothing to do with the story. If you choose not to read this portion, you won’t be missing anything from the story itself. It is just an avenue to share good spiritual food I have come across in my own research and reading.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

(THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT PART 4)

“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” Matthew 5:9.

Christ is “the Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6), and it is His mission to restore to the earth and heaven the peace that sin has broken.

Christ’s followers are sent to the world with the message of peace.

Whoever, by the quiet, unconscious influence of a holy life, shall reveal the love of Christ. Whoever by word or deed, shall lead another soul to renounce sin, and yield their heart to the Savior, is a peacemaker.

“Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 5:10.

Jesus does not present to His followers the hope of attaining earthly glory and riches, and of having a life free from trial. He presents to His followers the privilege of walking with their Master in the paths of  self-denial and reproach, because “the world” doesn’t want to know truth.

Though Jesus’s every word and act breathed of divine compassion, His unlikeness to the world provoked the bitterest hostility.

If you are called to go through “the fiery furnace” for His sake, Jesus will be by your side, just as he was with the faithful three in Babylon. (See Daniel chapter 3).

When it comes to God’s martyrs, Satan can kill the body, but he could not touch the life that was hid with Christ in God.

“Blessed are ye when men shall revile you. And persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for My names sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.” Matthew 5:11, 12

There was never one who walked among men more cruelly slandered than the Son of man. He was derided and mocked because of His unswerving obedience to God’s holy law. They hated Him without a cause. Yet He stood calmly before His enemies, declaring that reproach is a part of the Christian’s legacy, counseling His followers how to meet the arrows of malice, bidding them not to faint under persecution.

While slander may blacken the reputation, it cannot stain the character. That is in God’s keeping!

While the people are looking for earthly good, Jesus points them to a heavenly reward. But He does not place it all in the future, it begins here.

“Ye are the salt of the earth.” Matthew 5:13

Christians who are purified through the truth will possess saving qualities that preserve the world from utter moral corruption.

We are not saved in masses, but as individuals.

The savor of the salt represents the vital power of the Christian, the love of Jesus in the heart, the righteousness of Christ pervading the life.

Without a living faith in Christ as a personal Savior it is impossible to make our influence felt in a skeptical world. We cannot give to others that which we do not ourselves possess.

It is in proportion to our own devotion and consecration to Christ that we exert an influence for the blessing and uplifting of humankind.