“Thank you, Jesus! Oh, thank you so much! Thank you, thank you, Jesus!” The words come bubbling up from my heart and tumble from my lips. Then in the very next second, my mind whisks me back to my seminary days. I’m sitting in the classroom of Dr. Siegbert Becker-a gifted theologian. I hear his distinctive voice as he shares insights on Psalm 91:11. “For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”
“Notice that the Psalmist says “in all thy ways.” God’s guardian angels don’t just take care of us when we’re being good. They also take care of us when we’re doing something stupid.”
Back to the present. I had just done something super stupid. What was it? Permit me to rewind and explain.
It was Wednesday morning two weeks ago. I had a communion visit scheduled for the morning, then Wednesday Bible Class at church. Shortly before I needed to leave, I looked out the window. There was a dead spruce tree, perfectly placed across my drive way. “The Lord has a sense of humor,” I thought.” “I couldn’t drop it better to block the driveway if I wanted to!” I needed to get on the road so I checked my mother-in-law’s part of our circle driveway. “Yep, the Lord is definitely pranking me.” Grandma’s driveway was blocked by a far bigger spruce. That would need a chain-saw to clean it up. So I wrangled the smaller spruce off to the edge of my driveway and got to my visit and Bible class on time.
Right after Bible class, I returned home. It was a miserable day. A light, cold rain came pelting down. But I figured the trees wouldn’t move themselves, so I got out my ATV, cart, and my chain saw. I started in on the spruce blocking my mother-in-law’s driveway. Before you know it, I had the tree cut up and the driveway opened. “This is going really well!” I thought.
Then it was on to my driveway. I cut up the little spruce I had shoved off to the side earlier that morning. Even in the miserable rain, my saw was humming along beautifully. “Boy, this is going well!” I said to myself. Then my gaze turned to my mound system just north of my driveway. That mound is precious to me because it’s a vital component for something we all love--indoor plumbing. But that same mound has proven to be a constant target of—you guessed it—standing dead spruce trees. Two of them had toppled over onto the mound system the night before. So I limbed them out and cut them up. Again I thought, “I can’t believe how well this is going!”
It was then that stupid started to fog over my brain. I looked up at the huge standing dead spruce tree, right on the north edge of my precious mound system. The same dead spruce I had wanted the excavators to take out when they installed the mound. But they hadn’t. So ever since, that massive dead spruce stood there, taunting me. Menacing my mound. I could see it toppling over in the next wind storm and snapping off one of the pipes on the mound system.
“Everything is going so well,” I thought again. “But it’s raining,” my common sense argued back.” “You should have help with this tree.” “But there’s no wind today, none at all.” “But you should at least take a break. You need to hydrate! Remember what the doctor says.”
“But everything is going so well.” And that’s when stupid won. I climbed across to the north edge of my mound system. I sized up the spruce, and put the v-shaped notch into the side of the tree where I wanted it to fall. “Wow, this is going so well,” I thought yet again. Then it was time for the back cut. I started in. But the dead spruce started to lean ever so slightly—the wrong way. My saw was jammed. Badly. “Why didn’t I bring a wedge!”
Now I’m running back to the ATV for my wedges, and a short-handled sledge. But the spruce was leaning a smidgeon more. There was no gap for a wedge anymore!
“Why didn’t I put a rope on this tree!” Now the spruce was leaning a bit more—right towards my precious mound system and one of the pipes!
That’s when my earnest prayers started. “Oh, Jesus, please, please keep the tree standing so I can put a rope on it.” I run to my shed. Grab a come-along. Then I rush back to my ATV, where I grab 3 heavy-duty tow straps. I hustle back to the spruce with them.
“You idiot! You forgot the ladder.” So it’s back to the shed for the ladder. With every passing second, I can see the spruce tipping a bit more, a bit more, in the wrong direction.
“Oh, please, please, Jesus! Keep the tree standing a little bit longer!”
“Why, Glenn, why, oh why, didn’t you wait!” I moan in desperation. I get a tow strap around the spruce, but it’s only about 9 feet off the ground. “That’s not going to be high enough to do any good! But it’s all I can manage right now,” I mutter to myself as the cold rain continues to pelt me.
“Oh, please, please, Jesus keep this tree standing.” I link the tow straps, one to another, through a tangle of brush. I put another short strap around a hemlock that will serve as my anchor. I attach the come-along to the straps and start to release it. It’s jammed! (Some idiot had put it away in that condition.)
It’s still raining. Now I’m miserable. Exhausted. Worried. Defeated. I run back to the shed for the smaller come-along. It works.
“Please, please, Jesus, keep the tree standing just a little longer.” As I finally start to ratchet the come-along, the tow straps begin to tighten. “They’re too low. This won’t do a bit of good!” I mutter again. But finally the slack is gone. And I start pulling on that massive spruce.
“Oh, please, please Jesus, let this work.” And it does! With each ratchet of the come-along, I see the big spruce starting to tip away from my mound system! Until it falls. Exactly where I wanted it, or perhaps I should say precisely where the Lord’s angel wanted it. And my chain saw? It toppled to the ground as the tree fell. The bar wasn’t even bent.
“Thank you, Jesus! Oh, thank you so much! Thank you, thank you, Jesus!”
And that, dear friends, is when my mind whisked me back to Seminary, Dr. Becker, and Psalm 91. “For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”
Privileged to Serve, Protected by angels, even when I’m being particularly stupid,
Rev. Glenn Schwanke
“Notice that the Psalmist says “in all thy ways.” God’s guardian angels don’t just take care of us when we’re being good. They also take care of us when we’re doing something stupid.”
Back to the present. I had just done something super stupid. What was it? Permit me to rewind and explain.
It was Wednesday morning two weeks ago. I had a communion visit scheduled for the morning, then Wednesday Bible Class at church. Shortly before I needed to leave, I looked out the window. There was a dead spruce tree, perfectly placed across my drive way. “The Lord has a sense of humor,” I thought.” “I couldn’t drop it better to block the driveway if I wanted to!” I needed to get on the road so I checked my mother-in-law’s part of our circle driveway. “Yep, the Lord is definitely pranking me.” Grandma’s driveway was blocked by a far bigger spruce. That would need a chain-saw to clean it up. So I wrangled the smaller spruce off to the edge of my driveway and got to my visit and Bible class on time.
Right after Bible class, I returned home. It was a miserable day. A light, cold rain came pelting down. But I figured the trees wouldn’t move themselves, so I got out my ATV, cart, and my chain saw. I started in on the spruce blocking my mother-in-law’s driveway. Before you know it, I had the tree cut up and the driveway opened. “This is going really well!” I thought.
Then it was on to my driveway. I cut up the little spruce I had shoved off to the side earlier that morning. Even in the miserable rain, my saw was humming along beautifully. “Boy, this is going well!” I said to myself. Then my gaze turned to my mound system just north of my driveway. That mound is precious to me because it’s a vital component for something we all love--indoor plumbing. But that same mound has proven to be a constant target of—you guessed it—standing dead spruce trees. Two of them had toppled over onto the mound system the night before. So I limbed them out and cut them up. Again I thought, “I can’t believe how well this is going!”
It was then that stupid started to fog over my brain. I looked up at the huge standing dead spruce tree, right on the north edge of my precious mound system. The same dead spruce I had wanted the excavators to take out when they installed the mound. But they hadn’t. So ever since, that massive dead spruce stood there, taunting me. Menacing my mound. I could see it toppling over in the next wind storm and snapping off one of the pipes on the mound system.
“Everything is going so well,” I thought again. “But it’s raining,” my common sense argued back.” “You should have help with this tree.” “But there’s no wind today, none at all.” “But you should at least take a break. You need to hydrate! Remember what the doctor says.”
“But everything is going so well.” And that’s when stupid won. I climbed across to the north edge of my mound system. I sized up the spruce, and put the v-shaped notch into the side of the tree where I wanted it to fall. “Wow, this is going so well,” I thought yet again. Then it was time for the back cut. I started in. But the dead spruce started to lean ever so slightly—the wrong way. My saw was jammed. Badly. “Why didn’t I bring a wedge!”
Now I’m running back to the ATV for my wedges, and a short-handled sledge. But the spruce was leaning a smidgeon more. There was no gap for a wedge anymore!
“Why didn’t I put a rope on this tree!” Now the spruce was leaning a bit more—right towards my precious mound system and one of the pipes!
That’s when my earnest prayers started. “Oh, Jesus, please, please keep the tree standing so I can put a rope on it.” I run to my shed. Grab a come-along. Then I rush back to my ATV, where I grab 3 heavy-duty tow straps. I hustle back to the spruce with them.
“You idiot! You forgot the ladder.” So it’s back to the shed for the ladder. With every passing second, I can see the spruce tipping a bit more, a bit more, in the wrong direction.
“Oh, please, please, Jesus! Keep the tree standing a little bit longer!”
“Why, Glenn, why, oh why, didn’t you wait!” I moan in desperation. I get a tow strap around the spruce, but it’s only about 9 feet off the ground. “That’s not going to be high enough to do any good! But it’s all I can manage right now,” I mutter to myself as the cold rain continues to pelt me.
“Oh, please, please, Jesus keep this tree standing.” I link the tow straps, one to another, through a tangle of brush. I put another short strap around a hemlock that will serve as my anchor. I attach the come-along to the straps and start to release it. It’s jammed! (Some idiot had put it away in that condition.)
It’s still raining. Now I’m miserable. Exhausted. Worried. Defeated. I run back to the shed for the smaller come-along. It works.
“Please, please, Jesus, keep the tree standing just a little longer.” As I finally start to ratchet the come-along, the tow straps begin to tighten. “They’re too low. This won’t do a bit of good!” I mutter again. But finally the slack is gone. And I start pulling on that massive spruce.
“Oh, please, please Jesus, let this work.” And it does! With each ratchet of the come-along, I see the big spruce starting to tip away from my mound system! Until it falls. Exactly where I wanted it, or perhaps I should say precisely where the Lord’s angel wanted it. And my chain saw? It toppled to the ground as the tree fell. The bar wasn’t even bent.
“Thank you, Jesus! Oh, thank you so much! Thank you, thank you, Jesus!”
And that, dear friends, is when my mind whisked me back to Seminary, Dr. Becker, and Psalm 91. “For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”
Privileged to Serve, Protected by angels, even when I’m being particularly stupid,
Rev. Glenn Schwanke
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