It All Began In A Barn

It all began in a barn. 

And the Midwest is full of them. My Dad’s first job was in a barn. The revival that lit a fire of the Gospel for many through his ministry started in a barn. The birth of the Country Church in Ruthton, Minnesota through Pastor Rich DeReuyter happened in a barn. The first snow of Winter always seems to close the door on the previous season in more ways than one. This time, the close was dramatic. Along with my cousin, Frank, I preached the funeral for a very dear friend, Karen DeGroot, at the Country Church. 

The glow of the lights from the inside were welcoming under a sky where the gray clouds hung low over the harvested fields. The beautiful building was bursting at the seams on this wet and windy day in November and as Traci and I walked in the sanctuary we were greeted by people I hadn’t seen in more than 30 years. Frank, still on oxygen from visiting the edge of death in the hospital with Covid, preached like the roof was on fire. At one point I thought he might settle down and pace himself, but instead he reached back and turned up the oxygen full blast. That’s Frank. My childhood friends, Dave and Chad, who were at the first barn revival my Dad did in the early 80’s, were there. It was as if there was this leap from childhood to adulthood where the conversations that happened tied together the gaps of time into a complete picture as we simply heard the updates on where life has taken us. Isn’t it interesting how seasons have a way of taking you on an unpredictable journey that you couldn’t have planned on if you tried? But the thing about seasons is that they change. 

The reminder of the changing of the seasons began to take shape as we found the warmth of kind connections brought together once again by the passing of a friend. The biting cold of the prairie winds, famous for being so strong and consistent over buffalo ridge, met us at the graveside as the temperature fell below freezing. They’re a hearty bunch, Midwesterners. Like a herd of buffalo huddling in a blizzard, the crowd of black clad mourners stood in solidarity to celebrate a life well lived. For the young mother in the crowd holding her infant, the changing of the seasons was wonderful, even if she didn’t feel prepared to be a mother yet. For the DeGroot family shivering together on folding chairs under the tent that day, it was a moment painfully marked by the handoff of a life too soon. For many of us, seasons change way too quickly. As the service concluded and people made their way to their cars, the flurries began to swirl around in the air like excited children running out to recess. The passing of a life and the passing of the season, the last breath of day and the first dusting of Winter, it all speaks to the way that God has orchestrated this world where everything and everyone eventually engages in a forced handoff of sorts. The scorching heat of Summer gives way to Fall, as the leaves of Autumn which change from green to yellow to red seem to signal us in a universal understanding that even nature tells us when to slow down and prepare to let go. Yet what we let go of is never truly lost. It only gets picked up by the next generation and carried further into the unknown. 

At Christmas time, God reminds us that even He surrendered Himself to the processing of seasons. We enter this world and surrender to the direction of our parents. He entered the world surrendered to the direction of Joseph and Mary. We grow and are faced with decisions and choices and hopefully we learn to live in obedience to our Heavenly Father, even if it comes through suffering. Jesus grew and was faced with decisions and choices and Hebrews 5 literally says that Jesus learned obedience through suffering. We come to the end of our season on earth, often too soon, and as much of a struggle as it may be, we are forced to let go. 

Jesus faced this same conflict as he appealed to the Father to find another way to transition the season ahead as he was going to the cross. There was no alternative presented in that moment, and even the Son of God now had to experience letting go. Thankfully, his cross became our victory and now we celebrate his birth for the same reason. It’s an unreasonable reality that God would step into our stories and seasons and include us in his victory and resurrection. But he’s not afraid of the unreasonable and he is the Lord of reality. At this time of year, slow down and remember that this life is an exercise in letting go. Who have you encouraged? Who are you empowering? Who are you training and teaching as a disciple? Every one of us has been given the task to make disciples. At some point, every teacher must help every student to become a teacher themselves. 

Embracing the changing of the seasons helps us realize that we can’t take up space forever, no matter how much wealth or success we experience in this life. We are to live to give away whatever wisdom or influence we can to those who come behind us so they’re more equipped for what’s ahead than we ever were. This Christmas, take a moment around the table to recognize the people God has placed in your path of influence, and ask the Lord to guide you victorious through the seasons ahead. We are equipped to live victorious nomatter what season it is, and when life gets confusing and complicated, remember that it all began in a barn.

Bill Vanderbush