The date was June 3, 1970. The place was Northern Minnesota, in a small town near the Canadian border called Ely. My grandpa was 78 years old, my grandma 75, and they had been married for 53 years when he wrote the following letter to their son (my father) and family. My grandparents were made from sturdy stock. They were closing in on the age of Caleb of Old Testament fame, who at 80 fought for and won the high country of Hebron when Israel entered the promised land. I present this brief memoir of my grandparents’ life as a metaphor for enjoying the spiritual life to the full (John 10:10). This is his letter (light editing for clarity):

Dear family, Bright, tempting fishing weather after a spring of rain and cloudy weather. Fishing season began last month on the 17th. Couldn’t stop the early birds who drifted into the area regardless of rain, wind and chill. We kept the oil heater on most of the time since, didn’t envy the ones who tempted fate. The urge to be Johnny-on-the-spot opening day regardless of conditions bugged us too. Common sense, for a change, prevailed and here we sit patiently standing by. Have the trail gear at the ready stage for a fast take off Wednesday. Took the canoe and little motor out to White Iron Lake for a trial run. Scooted as far as White Iron Beach. Lake was like a mirror. Fisherman everywhere. Even acquired some sunburn.

Nice weather we hope will continue. Weather report today hints of thunderstorms, might hit the area tonight. A 40 percent chance. Time element doesn’t bother us, having waited this long, we can sit tight and ramble when the storm lets up. Mum’s as expected before every trip, baked goodies by the dozen. Gobbled up lots of them already. Anyway, the gear sits in the kitchen and we’ll be heading out on our first venture this spring—should say summer.

Town’s full of outsiders. All hauling motors, boats, canoes, trailers. Talked to a couple yesterday at the landing, one we use at near Burleys. They are camped at the Halfway campground. Spent a month their last season, liked it and returned for another four weeks. Flies have been bad but repellant is plentiful. We take a supply with us on all our jaunts.

Finally caught up on all the yearly chores. Raised the house for a starter. Northeast corner sagged a bit. Re-papered the kitchen and living room. Re-screened the porch. Mum’s and I hauled 15 truckloads of gravel and resurfaced the road. Bummed the Street Commissioner for two loads of blacktopping for the road past the meadow to the gate. Burned the grass in the meadow. Widened the bridge over the creek, cut some wood and now we are set for whatever excitement we seek. Could assist Mike [Shaller] in building a garage. That favor will have to wait. Martha, Russ, Jim, and Mary were here or at the cabin, all came Saturday, left last evening. Mum’s and I, tho’ invited, stayed away, too crowded and cramped, besides the work entailed. Heck with all that bother. Too much is screwy.

The area experienced a cloudburst two weeks ago. Raised heck with roads, bridges, etc. 5.8 inches of rain in three hours. A record for this section of the small world. Meadow and our road flooded. Had flocks of ducks enjoying the new lake. Put out a salt lick, same place, old mink locale. Have a large doe, her last year’s twins, little doe and a spike buck. Imagine she had this year’s offspring hidden nearby. Saw a 200 lb. bear cross the yard. Also watched a red fox scamper around. It’s a real wildlife sanctuary.

Dropped in at your mother [in-law] almost every time we go into town to shop. She’s full of pep and improving wonderfully. Has a lot of company. Inactivity bugs her. Being up and active all her life and now compelled to take things easy is tough, she claims. At our age, we das’nt admit that time slowly sneaks up on us, aren’t as youthful as we pretend and just carry on. Both Mum’s and I realize we don’t pick ‘em up and lay ‘em down like we did twenty years ago. Anyway, we’ll keep the pressure on as long as we can.

Love, Mum’s and Pop’s

Most people won’t do the physical things my grandparents did; they were somewhat unique. But what if we lived our spiritual lives with the same gusto as they lived their physical lives? Live robustly, take risks for the Lord, don’t wait until things are easy, and be about working for the Lord as a way of life. I’ve started many things for the Lord, some of which failed, some had a limited life span, and some things I began are enduring to this day. We need young(er) people who set a course of doing great things for the Lord. Take the initiative to connect with people, help the poor, encourage the down-hearted, help the weak, and support those giving their all to serve God on the mission field.

The older generation of Christians (I am thinking here of baby-boomer Christians) is getting older and passing on. We need those who will wholeheartedly follow behind and take the mission of Jesus Christ forward, a new generation that will be spiritually hardy to the max. We need church planters, godly elders, Bible teachers, Sunday school teachers, and new Bible colleges and seminaries in under-served areas of the world. We need visionaries who can see regions and people groups that need the Lord and new ministries to reach marginalized groups wherever they may be. And, in the midst of it all, like my grandparents enjoyed watching the new life of their farmyard wildlife sanctuary, we need Christians who know how to enjoy God’s blessings in their lives.