In my office, sitting on my shelf, is an old black and white picture of two mules. Standing in front of the mules is a young boy with a smile on his face, while an older man is holding them by the reins. The young boy is my Grandpa Bob, and the older man is my great-granddaddy Clyde. Neither of these men I ever got the chance to meet, and yet I find myself being drawn to this image and feeling a connection to these two long past relatives. But why?
In Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, he writes, “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.”
The idea of momentary affliction preparing us for the eternal weight of Glory, I think, speaks to that old photograph of two mules. Life could not have been easy for the two men posing in that picture, nor would it soften up as the year went by. My Grandaddy Clyde was in World War I and fought his whole life trying to keep the family farm together that his grandfather had begun after the Civil War. Grandpa Bob would suffer his whole life with spina bifida, and he would have to work numerous jobs throughout his life to provide for his family, including railroad work, farm work, and eventually as a Foreman at AMOCO refinery, which would force him to move off the family farm in Kansas to the Gulf Coast of Texas. The two men encompassed the stubborn endurance of “momentary affliction” that others might benefit from their labors. And benefit they did as Clyde’s determination led to the farm remaining in family hands even to this day. And Bob’s determination led to a family being firmly established in Texas. Which would ultimately lead to me becoming a Pastor in Texas, which then led me to Fairfield!
