Glasses and Worldview

When I was two years old my mom noticed that my left eye was turning in towards my nose. Thankfully she panicked and took me to an eye specialist. I cannot remember not wearing glasses, but I do remember my first eye doctor visit with Dr. McKinnon.

Dr. McKinnon had an Old South accent.

“Which lens is clearuh?”

“The educated southerner has no use for the letter ‘r’ ,except at the beginning of a word.”

Mark Twain

It turns out that I was farsighted. I always get confused when people start trying to tell me the difference between farsighted and nearsighted. They say things like, “If you’re farsighted you can see far away without your glasses.” Or something like that. I probably got it wrong because I can’t see anything without my glasses. The quickest way to tell if someone is farsighted or nearsighted is to look through their lenses. If their eyes or face look smaller through their lenses they are nearsighted, if their eyes are bigger through their lenses they are farsighted.

I say I can’t see anything without my glasses, but that is only partly true. If the conditions are right I can focus my eyes much like you would focus a manual camera lens. But it’s getting harder to do that.

Not only was I farsighted, I had a lazy eye. Dr. McKinnon had me wear a patch over my good eye to strengthen my weak eye.

The eye patch

Dr. McKinnon told me, “Zane, just tell ’em you have a rabonic eye and if you take the patch off you’ll see right through ’em.”

I don’t know if you’ve ever worn a patch on one eye all day, but it is an interesting feeling. It is even stranger when you take the patch off later in the day and one eye is dilated and the other is accustomed to the light. But the patch worked and my eye no longer crosses.

When I was about fifteen I noticed that it was getting harder to focus my eyes and Dr. McKinnon prescribed my first pair of progressive (lineless trifocals) lenses. Aside from falling down the stairs at the high school entrance the first day I wore them, they turned out to be fantastic.

But progressive lenses are expensive, and when I moved out on my own I realized that I could save a few hundred dollars by just getting single vision lenses. And I started wearing contacts. Which was great because I was able to wear sunglasses. Dr. McKinnon never mentioned contacts because he had been wrestling me down for fifteen years trying to give me eyedrops.

If I am honest with myself, I have never really seen very clearly with contacts. So for the last fifteen years I’ve been squinting through life just so I could wear sunglasses. I think that not seeing has influenced my thinking. For instance, because I can’t see detail on people’s faces in a large room, I think that no one else can see me either. Perhaps this makes me a little less self conscious in front of a large crowd.

A couple of weeks ago I went back to the eye doctor and requested the progressive lenses again. It has been a long time since I have had a prescription this correct, and I am seeing details that I forgot were possible.

Anyway, I wrote all of that about glasses to talk about this. There are some things that you can only see with spiritual eyes.

But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.
‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭2:14‬ ‭KJV‬‬

I heard a lot about worldview when I first went to college years ago. Worldview is particular philosophy of life, or a conception of the world. Worldview is shaped by a lot of things from how we are raised to our experiences. It is very difficult to divorce a worldview and adopt another. It takes a miracle.

There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.
‭‭John‬ ‭3:1-3‬ ‭KJV‬‬

The Bible is full of themes of spiritual blindness and I could rattle a bunch of them off and hope that you could catch some of it. But “The kingdom of heaven cometh not by observation.”

You have to experience it before you understand. Which may seem against your nature.

O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭34:8‬ ‭KJV

Give it a taste, then you’ll see.

Voices

We endure a fool’s speech not because they have some wisdom to offer, but because they may say something so incredibly ridiculous that it becomes entertainment.

I am thinking this morning about voices.

There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification.

I Corinthians 14:10

I learned how to talk in a large extended family of loud talkers. So I acquired some of the critical communication skills necessary to be a successful boisterous politician just by going to my grandparent’s house once a week. There are two basic ways to get heard. The first tactic that you learn very young is how to talk someone down. At its basest essence, talking someone down means that you interrupt them and talk louder than them until they shut up and everyone starts listening to you. At its more refined nature it is the ability to successfully address an entire room.

“Zane, you ain’t never heard a story you didn’t think needed interrupting.”

Zach Wells

I admit, interrupting is a bad habit that I am actively trying to fix. But sometimes you must interrupt to rescue people from someone who doesn’t know what they’re talking about. My Dad called these people blithering idiots. We’ve all been trapped in endless conversations-rather monologues- with people who don’t know how to be clear and concise. We’ve all needed to be freed by someone who isn’t afraid to talk them down. That’s how I justify interrupting anyway.

“We endure a fool’s speech not because they have some wisdom to offer, but because they may say something so incredibly ridiculous that it becomes entertainment.”

The second way to insure that you will be heard is to have something to say that is worth hearing. When you have something worth hearing, you won’t need to talk anyone down. There are people that can walk into a room and almost whisper and everyone will hush, straining to hear what is being said. These are the kind of voices that I have been thinking about.

But the world is full of all kinds of voices. Voices on the radio shows, podcasts, and blogs. Voices on YouTube, Twitter, FaceBook, and Instagram. Voices you only hear on infrequent phone calls. Voices from the pulpit. Voices on your TV. Voices in your college classrooms, discussion boards, textbooks. All competing with each other for our attention. It gets loud at times. Sometimes you need to take stock and silence some of those voices. But make sure you don’t silence the wrong voices.

From time to time I like to ask myself these questions:

What is the loudest voice in my life? What is the most significant voice in my life? What voices are in conflict? What voices are making me worry or angry? How did this voice make its way here?

I am thinking of my Dad’s voice. Although he’ll never again talk to me in the life, I still hear him loud and clear. I remember him preaching about Herod the Tetrarch, who had the head of John the Baptist presented on a platter. Hell tried to silence “The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” And when Jesus stood before Herod “he[Jesus] answered him nothing.”

You cannot silence the voice of the man of God and still expect to hear God’s voice.

Hell is still trying to silence the voice that cries “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” It’s an offensive thing preaching. It comes at us without regard to our feelings. It is an assault on our carnal nature. It is foolish, but “It pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.” I Corinthians 1:21

Of all the voices in my life-and none of them without signification-I need most of all the voice of a preacher. And so do you. Please don’t silence the voice of the preacher in your life.

Politics & Religion

How forcible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove?
‭‭Job‬ ‭6:25‬ ‭

“You know they say we ain’t supposed to talk about politics and religion?” My coworker said this to me a few weeks ago as we were having a conversation that was rapidly approaching politics and religion.

“Who is they?” I asked. He couldn’t really tell me offhand, but I knew what he was talking about. Because I’ve heard this most of my life-although not from my parents- but from well meaning magazine articles, teachers, and etiquette experts. “Don’t talk about politics and religion.” And “Go along to get along.”

“The problem with what we’ve been told,” I explained to him, “Is that politics and religion are very important topics that need to be talked about.”

Please don’t sue me Bill Waterson

Unfortunately, many times if people get the courage to talk about politics and religion, they take their cues from the TV news people, who instead of speaking with a civil tongue, spit venom all over one another. Many people have allowed some talking head to speak for them while being told they aren’t allowed to speak for themselves. Social media doesn’t help either because it allows people to say harsh things without having to come face to face with their audience.

How forcible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove?
‭‭Job‬ ‭6:25‬ ‭

My politics-along with everything else in my life-are informed by my religion. In fact you could just say that my politics and religion are one and the same. I am part of the eternal Kingdom of God.

For the Lord is our judge, the Lord is our lawgiver, the Lord is our king; he will save us.
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭33:22‬

I’m not concerned about American politics. Or even World politics. Because God is not concerned about them.

All nations before him are as nothing; and they are counted to him less than nothing, and vanity.
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭40:17‬ ‭

I try to pray about America, but I usually can’t make it past “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Anyway, I just wanted everyone to know that I am more than willing to talk about politics and religion to anyone that is interested in a Bible Study.

Grandaddy

What I know about Daniel Webster Wells.

I never met my paternal great-grandfather. I only know him through stories. His name was Daniel Webster Wells.

I think it took him a long time to settle from the way Pop remembers it. Pop used to point out the places he had lived as a boy whenever we passed them while delivering a load of hay. Most of the time the houses were long gone and there was only an overgrown empty plot of land.

Granddaddy was a fisherman. Not in the modern professional catch and release way, but a genuine pre-catfish-farm commercial fisherman. He had an old row boat on the Coosa River where he would run trot lines. He would fry the fish in an old cast-iron wash tub. I think Pop still has the tub in a barn somewhere. You can see the notches that Pop, Dad, and Zach ceremoniously filed into the edge, each representing a generation of Wells men.

Granddaddy ran trot-lines on the Coosa River. This 30 lb Catfish was caught in a slough below Childersburg.

Granddaddy used to cup his hand and skim the boiling water out of the tub they used to scald the hogs. If you could stand to do it three times but not four it was ready. The water would take the hair clean off the skin of the hog. Any hotter and the hair would draw up, causing you to have to skin the hog and waste a lot of lard.

Granddaddy was also a sharecropper. Pop had to quit school in order to help make the crop one year. He never went back.

“He used to sprinkle flour on honey bees and follow them to the hive to harvest honey.” Dad told me.

He had worked in a foundry and he could solder the old way, with a big soldering iron that you put directly into the fire. He could fix skillets and make knives. He might have even made a moonshine still. Or was that Granddaddy Brasher? Either way, they both drank it. I think that’s how Nonna & Pop met.

“He would set in front of the fireplace in a rocking chair and whittle hammer handles and such with a pocket knife during the winter time. He’d let us throw the shavings into the fire. They would crackle and burst into bright flames.” Dad once told me.

Some of the fishing lures that Granddaddy probably whittled around the fire.
Zach thinks this was the pattern that Granddaddy used to carve the other two plugs pictured above.

Granddaddy developed lung cancer toward the end of his life. Possibly from smoking, I don’t know. No matter how, cancer is such a cruel disease.

My Uncle Jason was just a little fellow when Granddaddy got sick. He was too sick to even pick the child up.

“Jason would stand between his legs with his elbows propped up on granddaddy’s knees for an hour at a time.” Nonna told me.

I asked Pop when Granddaddy died.

“I try not to remember the days people died.” He said.

I like the idea of only recalling the good times we had with people, but that is not how life really is. Life is often more about struggles and hard times than it is the barbecues and good times. A big part of life is preparing to die.

Granddaddy died the day before Uncle Jason’s third birthday. Nonna prayed that it wouldn’t be on his birthday.

I missed meeting Granddaddy by almost a generation. I used to love to listen to my Dad tell stories about him. It seems like he had a good sense of humor. I always thought my Dad was going to live to be a lot older than he did. I didn’t realize until he was gone that I still had a whole lot of questions for him. About Granddaddy. About gardening. About life.

I have a feeling that in the distant future one of my posterity will want to know about Daniel Webster Wells. And somehow they will arrive at this article, which is all-together too short. I’m sorry, this is about all I know about Granddaddy Wells. But maybe, hopefully, you can find out more in the comments.

Thanks

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I think that it is wonderful that there is a day dedicated to giving thanks, giving thanks to God. I have so much for which to be thankful.

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:18
‬ ‭

Everything good thing in my life is because of Jesus Christ. And I have a lot of good things in my life.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. James 1:17

Time would fail me to list everything that I am truly thankful for. So I have chosen to write about what is dearest me.

I am most thankful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. It is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I cannot understate the joy and the peace that the Holy Ghost has brought to my life.

The next best thing that has ever happened to me is my beautiful wife Sarah. I am so blessed. My children are so blessed to have her as a mother. I am so thankful for my wife.

Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭18:22‬ ‭

I am thankful for the Word of God. I have never had a question in life that the Word of God could not answer. My sincere prayer is that I may have a deeper understanding of the God’s Word.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭119:105‬ ‭

I am thankful to be a part of the Kingdom of Heaven. I love my church. I love my pastor. I do not want to live any other way.

The law and the prophets were until John: since that time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it.
‭‭Luke‬ ‭16:16‬ ‭

I am thankful for my children, Wesley, Miriam, and Hollynn. Oh what joy!

Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭127:3-5‬ ‭

I am thankful for my brother Zach and sister Lindsay. We’ve always been close, but I value our relationship more than ever now.

I am thankful for a godly heritage. My parents have passed on to their reward, but I think about them every day. I was truly blessed to have Perry & Sonja Wells as parents.

Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;) That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:2-3‬ ‭

I am thankful for dear friends, kindred spirits.

Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭27:17‬ ‭

There is something that happens inside of me when I begin to sincerely thank God for his blessings. It is refreshing to my soul. God has been good to me.

Thanks to everyone who reads, shares, and comments on my blog. I am always in wonder when someone mentions to me that they read it. I hope that it brings you joy.

Mind Your Manners

One of my favorite things about a being a parent is having someone to listen to my accumulated trivia. Lately, I have reached the point in parenthood where my children are beginning to pose questions that sometimes stress my intellect. For instance, “Dad, what is manners?”

I usually try to give a clear and concise definitions.

“Well, manners are the principles that govern proper social behavior.” I replied.

I sat back in my chair and smiled, feeling satisfied with my quick thinking without consulting the dictionary.

A moment later the child asked, “Dad, what’s principles?”

This is what I mean by testing my intellect. I’m afraid their curiosity is about to outpace me. At any rate, I am going to attempt a more thorough answer to the original question, because some things require not only clarity, but elaboration.

Manners, best-beloved, are what my Mom and Dad taught me little by little and day by day about how to act around folks.

– Keep your elbows off the table

– Say ma’am and sir

– Keep your feet off the table

– Don’t talk with your mouth full

– Don’t interrupt someone

– Hold the door open for a lady

– Stand up and let a lady or an elder take your chair

– Don’t invite yourself anywhere

– Don’t cuss

– Use your blinker

– Cover your mouth when you cough, sneeze, or yawn

– Don’t smack (chewing with mouth open)

– Don’t ask someone how much money they make

– Don’t ask someone how much they paid for something

– Wipe your feet

– Don’t wear a hat indoors, unless you are a lady and the hat is classy

– Don’t yell inside

– Answer when someone speaks to you

– Don’t stare

– Don’t pick your nose

– Don’t take the last piece of chicken

– Don’t scratch

– Don’t spit

– Don’t reach over someone’s plate

– Don’t grab or snatch

– Don’t talk about gross things at the dinner table

– Don’t tell dirty jokes

– Don’t laugh at dirty jokes

Now this is not an exhaustive list, best-beloved, and we’ll add things as we come to them, but we have to start somewhere. If you follow these guidelines, when you come something you are unsure about you’ll probably make the right decision. Just do what your Mother would do and you’ll be ok.

Ready or Not

“If you waited till you could afford to have kids you’d never have them.”

We are about to have another baby any day now.

“Are y’all ready?” I get asked this a lot.

I usually reply, “We think we are ready.”

It is sort of a funny question. Perhaps there are people that are adequately prepared to have another baby-it’s never been us. No one is ever truly prepared for a baby, you just get sufficiently prepared. The baby is coming whether you are prepared or not.

“If you waited till you could afford to have kids you’d never have them.”

If babies waited until parents were truly prepared, they’d never come. That’s part of what is wonderful about a baby. Babies come to disrupt the comfortable and organized lives of sweethearts-ready or not. And how wonderful are they when they get here?

There are many other wonderfully disruptive things in life that we may never truly be prepared for. Unlike babies, these things sometimes may be put off until a more convenient season. As a result, there are some things that will never happen if we wait until we are prepared. More often than is comfortable we are prepared for nothing, but nothing is not the best option.

It is a curious thing that we often have to make some of the most important decisions in our life when we are least prepared to make them. Career paths, spouses, and friends all come to mind.

“Anything worth doing is probably not going to be easy.”

How many times have I pushed back against an opportunity because I could not accurately predict how it would change my organized life? I’m ashamed to say.

No, I’m probably not prepared for this next baby, but I am ready.

On Education

For years I have championed public school. Perhaps in a hardheaded way, because I am a product of public school. Notwithstanding the wonderful memories and relationships that public school afforded me, I would like to take an objective look at the education system.

Wesley started the first grade this year. The pandemic has caused his school to implement some resources that we have known were available, but never thought we’d actually have to use; namely virtual learning from home. Our experience with the first couple of weeks of virtual learning has caused me to do some critical thinking about education. For years I have championed public school. Perhaps in a hardheaded way, because I am a product of public school. Notwithstanding the wonderful memories and relationships that public school afforded me, I would like to take an objective look at the education system.

One of things that I still like about public school is that a child will be exposed to peers in their community. I do think it is good for children to learn how to interact with other children who are being raised with different values, beliefs, and traditions. After all, this is how life will be as adult. The simple principle Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself still takes quite a bit of practice and I think it is best taught to practice as a child.

Exposing a child to the peers in their community is also one of the things I dislike about public school. In my public school experience-especially in Middle School-much of the class time was spent disciplining children who had no desire to learn. I imagine that this is one of the greatest challenges for a teacher. Some of the same troublemakers that I watched purposefully disrupt class are now troublemakers in society. I see them from time to time when they make the news for criminal activity. So the time taken away from my education to discipline an incorrigible student was essentially wasted for everyone. On the other hand, learning how to deal with difficult people has come in handy many times in my adult life.

Perhaps there is an advantage in attending a smaller school. My wife is always surprised when I recall any of my teachers. She attended a much larger school than I did, and remembers her teachers as impersonal if she remembers them at all. There were only about 45 students in my graduating class and I had known most of them since kindergarten. So our teachers-I am related to a few of them-had a better chance of getting to know the students, which I think is a good foundation for a quality education.

It is unfortunate that public education is entangled in politics. Often decisions are made by bureaucrats that probably would be better made by teachers and even parents. You can read Year-Round School for a good example of that.

As a parent I am thankful for the opportunity to enroll my children in our Church’s Christian School. This was not an option for me as a child. In the last couple years of his life, my dad had the chance to work with Cornerstone Christian Academy. He was impressed by the curriculum-Abeka– and the freedom the administration had in organizing the school.

I am currently chipping away at my college education a couple of online classes at a time. It has taken this long because I have never been keen on going into debt for a degree that may or may not land a quality job. Even before the pandemic, online classes were really my only option. After reading some of the posts from my fellow students on the class discussion boards-a common assignment in online courses-I am strongly convinced that online classes are not working for everyone. It is painfully clear to me that many of the concepts being taught are not making sense to some students. More than likely these students will still pass the class with an imperfect understanding of the subject. Which is ultimately a failure.

No doubt we’ve all encountered people like this who may have eventually earned their degree. My dad used to tell a story of a college graduate at work who had made a really boneheaded production decision that cost the company a lot of money and time. Anyone with any kind of sense should have known better. In response to this error, one particularly perplexed blue collar worker shook his head and said, “He been to college though.”

To some degree home schooling is not much different that online college classes. Fortunately, most parents that I know with ambition enough to home school their children care enough to make sure their children are getting sufficient understanding of the subjects. Much can be said about the presence of a teacher who is genuinely interested in the education of a student.

Maybe the highest level of quality of education comes from a private tutor, or someone who is focused on only one student. This would be quite expensive. In many ways I think that this is where a parent is responsible for a child’s education. There are some things that are best learned from a father or a mother.

I grew up in a house where reading and discussion were valued. The arguments we had at the kitchen table were hardly ever about personal matters, but history, science, art, literature, or culture, and often could be solved by referencing the dictionary or the encyclopedia. To hear “Look it up” in a confident tone meant that you were about to lose an argument and be schooled. Even so, we never dwelt on who was wrong, but moved on to the next subject. That, I think, is how to create a culture of learning in the home.

Dear Mom,

Zach just called me and told me that you were unresponsive in the ICU. They are letting four of us come in and see you. I can’t come because I have COVID-19. So I’m writing you a letter.

Zach just called me and told me that you were unresponsive in the ICU. They are letting four of us come in and see you. I can’t come because I have COVID-19. So I’m writing you a letter. My sincere prayer is that you recover miraculously and get on to me for treating you like a dying person. Nevertheless, I think I will not regret this letter.

Since you’ve been sick I’ve missed talking to you on the phone every day after work. You helping me weave together how I’m related to all my relatives. Talking about food and recipes and getting hungry. Talking about Dad and laughing. Talking about church and rejoicing.

I’ll never forget the night that you pulled me aside crying after a couple friends from college, Sarah and Kelly, stopped by the house on their way back to St. Louis.

“Zane, every time I’ve dreamed that you got married, Sarah was the girl in my dreams.” You had never met Sarah before.

Sarah and I weren’t even dating at the time, but you sure got that one right. That hasn’t been then only time over the years that I’ve trusted your intuition, or rather your discernment, and come out the better for it. Thank you.

Some of my earliest memories are of you kneeling down in the chair and praying out loud in the living room while I played. It’s hard to cut up when you hear your mom praying. Thanks for letting me hear you pray when I was a teenager. Thank you for showing me how to pray fervently on my own and how to intercede.

Remember when Zach and I come to you one morning before school when we were little kids?

“Me and Zane been thinking. We want real food for breakfast.” Zach said as I stood there beside him in my big old glasses. He was the spokesman. Apparently pop-tarts or cereal were not cutting it. Both those things have never been able to satisfy me, even when you buttered the pop-tarts. From then on you made us bacon and eggs for breakfast. Or ham and cheese omelettes. Can anyone make a ham and cheese omelette like you? Or those sausage, egg, and cheese “Whop” biscuits. Or when times were tough, a piece of bologna with cheese and eggs on top, or a fried weenie. Thank you for feeding me real food.

You’ve always had a gift at making a place feel like home. And a way of making people feel welcome. And your food was always delicious. I think Lindsay has gotten a lot of that gift from you. I’m really proud of her. I’m sorry that Lindsay and I fought so much as children. She started it though. We really do love each other now. And we love you.

Thank you for loving Dad and showing us what a healthy marriage looks like. What I thought was a normal home-life turned out to be incredibly rare, and I cherish it dearly. It takes a lot character, integrity, and commitment for a marriage to last. You and Dad had what it took. Thank you both for giving us the best home that any parents could offer.

We went to Apostolic Truth Tabernacle in Talladega one time and Pastor Jimmy Huggins said, “I feel led in the Holy Ghost to tell somebody that your mom is your ace in the hole. Be nice to your mom, she’s got your back.” Do you remember that? I feel like he was talking directly to me. And he was right. I can’t begin to count all the times you’ve been in my corner. Thank you.

We thought we were going to lose you when Wesley was born.

“I had to fight a bear to keep your Momma at home. She wanted to come up here and see that baby so bad.” Dad said. We were all so worried about you when you were sick in 2015. But God took Dad first and raised you back up to give us five more years with you. I hope it does it again, but I trust it just the same.

Shall not the judge of all the Earth do right?

Gran meets Welsey

When Miriam came you were well enough to leave that morning, Christmas morning, and drive the eleven hours to hold her.

Gran meets Miriam

I think what me hurts me most is thought of Hollynn not getting to meet you. I’ll do my best to tell her how wonderful you and Poppy were, but I know words are going to fail. We’ll just try to love her as much as you would.

I know Zach and Linds used to tease you about me being your favorite child. Boy you sure did make me feel like I was your favorite. I guess thats a mother’s love: making all your kids feel like they are the most important.

I didn’t know that life would so full of death as an adult. I miss being a little kid and you being able to fix everything with a prayer and hug and a kiss. My heart is hurting right now.

I remember when Sarah and I lost our first baby. That’s about how bad I’m feeling right not thinking of losing you. You called me and quoted scripture.

“Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.”

I found great peace in that scripture. The longer I live the more I find answers for everything in the Word of God. Even so, there are still a lot of things I’m just going to have to understand better by and by.

We were talking about you the other day and the very real possibility that this may be the time when God decides to call you home. Zach, still the best spokesman, said, “Ultimately death doesn’t mean to God what it means to us.” I believe that with all my heart.

I Corinthians 15:50 Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption inherit incorruption.

51 Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,

52 In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

53 For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.

54 So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.

55 O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

56 The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin in the law.

57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

I’m going to miss you so much. I feel like a child who isn’t done having company, but it is time for the company to leave. I have so many plans for you and the kids. I will always love you.

Love your favorite child,

Zane Wells

P.S. Give Dad a big hug for me.

P.P.S. Give our first baby a hug too.

The First Vehicle I Drove

This truck was huge. Imagine an old dump-truck with a flatbed.

“You remember the old blue truck?” Uncle Jason asked me the other day on the phone.

Do I remember the old blue truck? Do you forget your first kiss? Do you forget your first dog? Do you forget the first time you accidentally used buttermilk in your cereal?

The old blue truck was an old Chevrolet that had been converted to run on propane. I’m not sure if that conversion would be economically sound with today’s fuel prices but in the early nineties it made a lot of sense. This truck was huge. Imagine an old dump-truck with a flatbed. It was built before commercial driver’s licenses were a requirement, but I doubt you could drive a modern equivalent without a CDL. That’s how I remember it anyway. I’m sure some automobile enthusiast could tell you a lot more than you’d care to know about it. For years I thought it was an International.

I was either in the second or third grade when Pop was waiting for me when I got off the school bus. I had enough time to drop my school books off and “get into my work clothes” before being whisked off to the hayfield.

It was Uncle Jason who showed me how to drive Old Blue. Basically I was given a crash course on shifting between neutral and low. The only pedal I was authorized to touch was the clutch. No gas pedal or brake needed. I couldn’t even fiddle with the manual choke. Just clutch, steering wheel. I didn’t worry about anything else.

And go easy on that clutch, we don’t want this hay falling, but push it in as far as it will go.

Just hold the steering wheel steady and don’t run over any hay bales.

Press that clutch in when you hear us holler, but don’t stomp it.

The instructions always came with an addendum.

Dad showed up at the hayfield around the time he normally got home from work. It was before cellphones were common. So I am imagine there was a message waiting for him to come meet us in the hayfield.

After surveying the operation Dad asked, “Who’s driving?”

“I’ll never forget the look on your Dad’s face when he saw you in the driver’s seat.” Uncle Jason tells me over the phone. I hear him pause to make a facial expression that somehow I can still see clearly, although it is on my Dad’s face and not Uncle Jason’s. It’s a look of shock mixed with pride.

I was so proud as little boy to have driven that big old truck, and to have gotten paid for it. There is a feeling that you can only get by having done work. It is one of the best feelings in the world and it gives you a sense of pride and satisfaction. I did something worth doing today.

Zane Wells, age 7, professional hay truck driver.

“How could I forget Old Blue?” I replied to Uncle Jason.

“Well I passed it the other day on 278, not far from your house.”

“You sure that was it?”

“No doubt in my mind.”

I believed him. But I went and checked just to make sure.

Old Blue
I remember the bed of this truck being taller than me.