Blossom

On the last days of my sabbatical we took a few days to spend with family, rest and reflect upon our days of camping and following the route of Paul in Turkey. I’m still processing the things I saw while I was away and am planning a reporting time later. Next year I’m preaching a series on the life of Paul that will include some responses to the sites we saw and things I learned.

On the last days of our travels we stepped into a time machine. We went back to a place where we once gathered with Cindy’s family near Broken Bow, Oklahoma. We went to the place near the lake where they used to go on family vacation and water ski. It’s where I went with them as they enfolded me into the family. The same happened to my other brothers-in-law. We sat on lawn chairs in the area where we used to picnic. We looked at old photos when our kids were tiny and playing in and near the water. The walk down memory lane was sweet and sad. We miss Cindy’s parents who were the center of those trips.

On the way to the lake, I had been watching the map and realized we were also going near to Cindy’s grandmother’s hometown. I thought we would drive through that town on the way back to Athens. Cindy has found memories of the place. She took me to the concession stand where she used to work when she came for a couple of weeks in the summer. We tried to find her grandmother’s apartment, but it had been torn down. We drove past a different place Grandma Lee had once lived. We stopped in front of the church where we held her funeral so many years ago.

We also stopped at Dan’s Shed. When I joined the family I made the journey to Blossom. We drove all over town (pop. 303) in about five minutes. The most central memory was of Dan. For over 50 years, Dan Bolton drove his tractor to the center of town and oversaw the farmer’s market. He wore striped overalls, a tall straw hat and a big wide smile. He had tall tales to tell. He waved at everyone that passed by and he was the central nervous system of the town. The shed was built in 1948 between the railroad tracks and the highway. It was old and quaint and 100% Americana. The new shed is pipe poles and metal roof. It lacks the patina of the old building. Two big historical markers frame the entryway dedicating the space as Dan’s Shed and telling his remarkable story.

He lived in a small town. He made a deep impression of friendliness to the people around him. He was not fancy, but he was fruitful and his life made a difference. Blossom where you are planted.