In the mountains of western Massachusetts the Lord has built a foundry out of which are cast all manner of instruments for His service. These hammers, these nails - these scalpels and swords were fashioned from metals made molten by the crucible of confrontation, study, independence, and community. This experience and environment is unlike any other and has provided its products a peculiar ethic and a wonderful worldview. Those of us tempered in this foundry are a league of useful soldiers and in the kingdom we are the Lenox Order of Saints.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Our tales are all so different but our experiences here in Lenox much the same. How do you now view this quiet little harbor where you docked your life's ship? Have you fared better or worse on the high seas for your time being discipled at the institute? It's a question worth asking. Perhaps your year here is like a forgotten savings bond purchased years ago and discovered in an old strongbox. Maybe there are needs in your life that call on you to redeem that bond today and renew the call the Lord placed on you way back when. Do the sepia-toned memories of your days in the Berkshires have that patina of providence? Just wondering myself.