I turned 70 this fall. It comes complete with grey hair and blemishes. And, oh yes, the limp. All testify that I have lived and loved. Faced hardships. Had exciting experiences like traveling to Ukraine, preaching in Crete and flying a T-6 Texan over San Antonio.

I don’t smile much, though. My chaotic family life discouraged smiling. Life was harsh. There were a few divorces while living with Mom, and she preferred the sergeant types. A car accident cost us my younger brother and left me with a pronounced limp. Couldn’t play basketball or football. That’s life.

No pity is needed. Along the way I encountered kindly family members, teachers and church leaders who reached out with encouraging words and hugs. I found godly saints in church who smiled at me and led me in a better way. God bless them all.

I smile when I think of them. They stand like oak trees in the middle of a pasture, the kind that spread its branches for you to rest beneath them for a while. Then, they seem to let some branches down so you can climb up and see afar, to a promising future on the horizon.

I like to think there are oak trees like that everywhere. You just need to find them and connect to them. I know where there is a church full of oak trees like this, at the Church of Christ at Little. Come find us and sit in the shade for a while.