The Archaic Clothesline, Clapping Sunflowers, and a Heart for Worship

Eleven years ago, I wrote this manuscript and "tucked" it away. It has survived two computers crashing and many other changes. Dad is no longer on the earth with us. Several of the trees have fared poorly in thunderstorms. Yet God and how He relates to us remains the same.

Lessons Learned at an Archaic Clothesline

One Saturday morning, I was hanging damp laundry out to dry on the clothesline in the back yard of my parents’ farm home. The mindless task allowed time to simply enjoy the natural surroundings. The exceptionally slow-paced activity enabled me to absorb the moment and in an uncanny way, relax and energize my mind and body.

A slight breeze began to blow stirring the hot July air a bit.  Suddenly the verdant leaves of the red bud tree, the apricot trees, the plum trees, the pecan trees, the maple tree, the mimosa tree, and the monstrous Chinese elm commenced rustling ever so slightly, emitting a soft, mesmerizing sound. As I lifted my eyes from the clothesline, over the chain-link fence bounding the back yard, I spotted the large leaves of the twelve-foot sunflowers in Dad’s garden giving the appearance of clapping. Instantly, I was reminded of the scripture in Isaiah 55:12 that joyously states, “…all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”  “Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord,” the psalmist says in Psalm 96:12. What a worshipful experience to be in the very presence of God’s majestic creations praising Him and rejoicing in their adulation of the Lord of all! 

Dad with his sunflowers that I saw "clapping." 

Then to my surprise the breezy atmosphere in the back yard unexpectedly quieted. The gentle wafting ceased, creating an enveloping stillness that slowly pervaded the entire back yard. Momentarily almost a holy hush fell over my little part of the world.  Flooding from my early memory was the remembrance of a large reminder that hung at the front of the sanctuary of the Big Bend Baptist Church where my family attended during my early elementary school days. “The Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence before Him.” was emblazoned in gilt lettering on the rich blue background. These beautifully inscribed words, taken from Habakkuk 2:20, seemed so appropriate to describe this present continuation of my backyard worship experience.

     As I placed a clothespin on a towel, the unmistakably clean scent of freshly washed laundry drifted to my nose. I reflected on all God was bringing to the forefront of my spiritual consciousness. 

I realized that so frequently worship experiences consist of a time of audible praise, whether spoken testimony, a corporate responsive reading, a verbalized prayer, or a hymn sung to His honor. This initial aspect of worship is active in nature. It involves the worshiper doing something to show devotion, love, or adoration to the Lord.

Secondly, almost in a cyclical manner, a quiet time of reflection follows the outward praise experience. It replicates a “worshipful breathing.”  The exhalation of praise on our part is much like our lungs exhaling in a rhythmic manner. Then in our physical bodies, our lungs immediately inhale the necessary oxygen. In the same way, a worshiper must inhale moments of solitude in God’s presence, just reflecting on His attributes. A clear understanding of these qualities of the Living God enables us to implicitly entrust our eternity, as well as day-to-day living, into His care.

     What powerful, life-altering lessons God can teach from His creations! I will never look at swaying branches or a slight breeze in quite the same manner. Perhaps both natural occurrences will always inspire a brief personal worship time simply by recalling the impromptu, spiritual lesson gained at an archaic clothesline.

Opposites Attracted 94 Years Ago

Opposites Attract

                Today, July 23, marks the 94^th wedding anniversary of my maternal grandparents, Gladys Vivian Rainey and Calvin Callcayah Smith. They were married in Pawnee, Oklahoma, in a civil ceremony. Grandpa was 29 years of age and Grandma was not quite 23 years old.

                Never was either grandparent definitive about how they met. Grandpa “migrated” west from Delaware County, in the "old country" as he referred to it, to live with his relative, Jack Miller, who lived in the Big Bend. Miller and his family arrived in the community earlier from the Cherokee Nation in Eastern Oklahoma.

                Grandpa descended from a great-grandma who was a survivor of the Cherokee Trail of Tears. His father spoke English, Spanish, and his first language, Cherokee. Whereas Grandma’s father, sporting reddish hair, a flair for having fun, a penchant for horse racing, and dancing a lively Irish jig, identified proudly with his Irish background. Anthropologists have speculated that Native Americans and Irish shared similar cultural rituals that possibly subliminally encouraged intermarriage in past history.

                Grandpa had lived in Kaw City and worked as a carpenter in the oil boom when derricks were constructed of wood. He also played baseball in Fairfax. Mr. Ruben Hopper, a friend of his from Delaware County who also moved to Sunny Slope east of Ralston, Oklahoma, around the same time, delighted in asking me whether I had seen Grandpa “fan” the batters. Mr. Hopper would continue in our conversation to extol Grandpa’s baseball pitching ability.

                Grandma’s family moved to Osage County, settling in the Big Bend community in 1912. However, during 1923, she lived primarily in Fairfax, at the Fairfax Hospital that was located on South Fourth Street, where she trained as a nurse. In those days, nurses in training lived on site and “learned by doing.”

                I have deduced that since they were “mum” on the subject of their first meeting and their courtship, they must have primarily encountered each other at the community dances held in Benders’ homes. They stopped going to dances when my mother, as a preschooler, “put up a howl” anytime they went to a dance. (Even though Mother remembers many things from her earliest years, she remembers crying but doesn’t recall why she cried when they attended the dances.) After their spiritual conversions, neither of them attended community dances again. They indicated trouble often occurred at the dances, including drinking, jealousy, and fighting.

                Their differences usually loomed large in my grandparents’ marital relationship. Grandma had a feisty personality, which could morph into a fiery temper. (See a blog posting about her temper in https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/01/grandmas-temper-and-turkey.html). Whereas Grandpa seldom expressed anger or displeasure unless pushed to his breaking point, which remained at a high threshold.

                Grandma had enough words for both of them. My mother, my sister, and I recount how little we exchanged words with Grandpa on some days. For whatever reason, he limited his verbal interaction. Some people indicated Grandpa was less verbal because of his Cherokee heritage.  Yet, those who knew him best would vouch that he loved a good laugh and enjoyed spirited conversation.

                Bottom line, Grandma was an over-achiever – whether in ornamental gardening, sewing, cooking, preparing for Sunday School or Vacation Bible School. She didn’t have an ounce of slothfulness in her being. She pushed herself to unheard of limits. Grandpa worked but enjoyed hunting or fishing or just sitting under a shade tree. Many times, I have seen him walking to the pond with his fishing rod in one hand and his tackle box in the other. His insistence on engaging in work and leisure activities, in almost a steady rhythm between the two, seemed to lead to a calm serenity.

                The initial relationship and marriage of my grandparents illustrates a classical paradox. Opposites attract, but daily living that magnifies differences can result in couples experiencing hostile interactions that eventually drive them apart.

                The marked difference in my grandparents’ personalities could have easily been categorized as “irreconcilable differences.” Had they not made commitments to Christ, I think the variances may have presented an insurmountable obstacle to remaining married. Without the common bond of their love of the Lord, His Word, and service to Him in the church, it seems apparent that their relationship would have been doomed.

                On this 94th anniversary of their wedding, I give thanks to God for graciously entering the lives of my grandparents in the early years following the exchange of their vows and solidifying a marriage that provided a home for my mother to flourish and grow. I am grateful for how the godly influence of their individual personalities with their unique giftedness affected the lives of my sister and me. May we never forget the impact we can have on future generations by how we live our lives today.

My grandparents, Gladys Vivian Rainey Smith and Calvin 

Callcayah Smith photographed after church one Sunday.

Most photos of Grandpa have this same solemn expression. 

Grandma's photos exuded a barely perceptible impishness. 

When in her 70s, she reunited with a man who had attended 

grade school with her. He quipped, "I'd know that mischievous

look anywhere!"

100 Years of Memories as Gates Family Commemorates the Family Ownership of the Gates Farm

Robert Bernard Gates

John Francis Gates

On Saturday the descendants of Edmund Gates, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates commemorated the hundredth year of Gates ownership of the small farm on the Arkansas River in the Big Bend community. 

The two baby boys in these photographs on the left and right are the oldest son and the youngest son born to Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Gates. Neither lived out of childhood.





These are the photographs of the nine Gates children who lived to adulthood. The photographs appear according to their birth order in the family.

Ella Edith Gates Bledsoe

              

Edmund Gates, Jr.

Mary Elizabeth Gates Roberts

Florence Martha Gates Johnston

Jess Phillip Gates

 

William Herbert Gates

James Franklin Gates  

Julia Irene Gates Newland

  

Mamie Marie Gates Judkins Tice

Below are links to the tributes to the eleven children of whom I have written. (If you cannot access by clicking on the links, try using copy and paste into your browser.)

Robert Bernard Gates - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/09/robert-bernard-gates.html

Ella Edith Gates Bledsoe - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/01/the- little-girl-that-left-bend-for.html

Mary Elizabeth Gates Roberts - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2015/11/aunts- and-nieces.html

Edmund Gates, Jr. - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/06/the-95th-birthday-of-my-father-edmund.html

Jess Phillip Gates - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/07/ a-scared-father-smart-son-and-stonewall.html

Florence Martha Gates Johnston - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/ 12/the-missing-photograph-from-panel.html

William Herbert Gates - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/07/ recalling-life-of-william-herbert-gates.html

James Franklin Gates - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/01/james- franklin-gates-and-his-first-trip.html

Julia Irene Gates Newland - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/09/happy-birthday-to-julia-irene-gates.html

Mamie Marie Gates Judkins Tice - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2017/06/remembering-life-that-loved-beauty.html

John Francis Gates - https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-75th-birthday-of-john-francis-gates.html 


I conclude this post with a short tribute to Fredrick Gates, the brother closest in age to my father.

Fredrick Daniel Gates was born on his father's 44th birthday, June 16, 1921. The birth of Freddie, as my father often referred to him, occurred two years and one day after my father's birthday. He died on his fourteenth birthday after being struck by lightning. A front page article in the June 20, 1935 issue of The Fairfax Chief  indicated the funeral was held at the Woodland Schoolhouse the following afternoon, June 17th. My father, Edmund Gates, Jr., always indicated the lightning struck the hoe that Freddie was dutifully cleaning after coming out of the field. 

Striker and the Snake

Striker Takes on a Snake

                Striker has been dubbed by me, The Orange Blur on the farm. The slim-bodied tom cat can be characterized as active, alert, and down-right smart.

                In mid-spring, during the seasonal deluge of rain, one afternoon I returned from checking cattle and noticed the Orange Blur observing something closely in the front yard. During spring calving season, I always check cattle with my camera since I can immediately snap a photo of the newest calf on the farm. That way Mother can see the most recent addition to her herd.

                To my amazement, Striker’s front left paw gingerly approached a light-colored snake, coiled after a fashion. He quickly decided this reptile was reasonably safe. Striker sniffed for a second and then immediately sunk his sharp little teeth into the snake.

                As I snapped photos of the adventuresome cat, Striker sensed other farm cats approaching. No way would those felines get near his reptilian captive. The Orange Blur snatched the Eastern yellow-bellied racer and sprinted across the front yard, with it in tow, as if to say, “No other cat is going to get this snake!”

                I admire Striker’s spunkiness and fearless nature when he encounters his prey. Striker capturing the snake reminded me of Paul’s command written by the inspiration of God. 2 Corinthians 10:5 states, We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ. (English Standard Version)

                As always, our thoughts, debating points, and opinions must be measured according to God’s Word. Then just as Striker took the Eastern yellow-bellied racer captive so we must capture and conform the things upon which we think, along with our long-held opinions, to the principles of the Bible.

I like the way the Phillips version reads, We even fight to capture every thought until it acknowledges the authority of Christ. When we insist on retaining our opinions, even though they run contrary to what God says in His scriptures, it represents overt defiance against the Lord.

May we instead choose to swear our allegiance to Jesus, the King of Kings, and illustrate it in our daily lives as our thoughts, opinions, speech, and actions exalt Him. Only then, as Paul states in verse 15, will our area of influence…be greatly enlarged.

They Cherished the Freedom That Cost Them So Much

Ancestors Who Craved and Sought Freedom

My paternal grandfather, Edmund Gates, Sr., descended from several ancestors who immigrated to the colonies originally from Germany in the eighteenth century. Peter and Anna Margareta Aschauer Stutenbecker, (5 greats removed from me) ventured to the new world on the Harle in 1736, forty years prior to the American Revolution. Peter, aged 41, and Anna, aged 34, had in tow, their two-year-old daughter, Margaret Mary, and a four-year-old daughter, Anna Catharina. All four had been born in Solingen, Germany. Documentation revealed they chose to leave their homeland to avoid persecution because of their staunchly-held belief that baptism should only take place after a genuine commitment to follow Christ, a foundational tenet of the Church of the Brethren that had its beginning in the early 1700s. As respected members of the cutlers guild in Solingen, many fellow blade makers did not want Peter and his family to leave Germany with their trade secrets. From the www.studebakerfamily.org site the family explanation of their escape follows:

An unconfirmed family tradition says that the highly skilled Staudenbeckers built false sides and bottoms in their luggage and shipping crates, where they hid the bulk of their money. Once they reached the sea, they booked passage on the Harle, arriving in Philadelphia. When they arrived, the immigration clerks, unfamiliar with German pronunciations, recorded their names as "Studenbecker." Other records recorded their names as Studebaker, Studibaker, Studabaker and other variations."

Bakers Lookout in Hagerstown, Maryland, the plantation home of Peter

          Studebaker. It was built in 1740. Even though the home is described as a
"plantation" home, Peter strongly opposed slavery even in the 1700s.
photo below from  www.bakerslookout.com

                                        

               Jacob Christian and Anna Margaretha Seffer Schneider, aged 43 and 35 years, respectively, in the year of their passage to their new home on the Fane in 1749, were born in Bayarn, Germany (This couple is 6-greats from me.) My great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Jacob Ludwig Snider (spelling on his tombstone) at aged 17, immigrated with his parents. It would be twenty-seven years before the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776.

The Schneiders, identified as German Baptists, faced persecution from German protestants as well as the Catholic church in their country of birth. Even though the Studenbeckers (changed surname spelling to Studebaker upon arrival in the colonies) lived 250 miles, in Germany, from the Schneiders (changed spelling of their surname to Snyder and finally, Snider), they shared a belief so strongly that both were willing to risk their families’ safety to practice their religious beliefs freely without interference from the government.  The belief refuting infant baptism, coupled with the insistence that the ritual of immersion only illustrated what had taken place in the person’s heart was held by few. 

Recently Placed Military Plaque to Honor Lt. Jacob Snider. In 1780,
he provided provisions for the Army of Virginia. He was appointed
a lieutenant in the militia on September 18, 1781, at the age of 49.
He died at the age of 58 in 1790, the same year the final state ratified
the Constitution of the United States. Source: www.findagrave.com

As we celebrate the 241st birthday of our nation, may we recall the physical, mental, and spiritual strength of our ancestors who endured the perils of transatlantic travel in the 1700s. Their tenacity and courage bolstered them past the hurts, losses, persecutions, looking to the land of freedom and opportunity. Their success was limited only by their own willingness to diligently work. Their integrity was founded in their devout commitment to God, embracing Him, obeying His Word, and giving their all to make their newly adopted country the best place in the world to live. May we pray to conduct our lives so these early Americans, from whom we descend, would be well pleased that their blood flows through the veins of descendants whose daily behavior honors their strength, determination, and faith.