GROWN FOR A SPECIAL PURPOSE

A CORN CRIB PREPARED FOR A SPECIAL CORN

(I am sorry that I have no picture of the building)

I lived and grew up on the farm when we could plant anything that we desired, cultivate, harvest, and use in any way we wanted. But, in the early 50's we took on a new project. We had been planting hybrid corn and enjoying the higher yields and higher quality corn for a few years. Rather than save some planting seed from last years crop for planting, dad must buy hybrid seed. The county agent told dad that he could become a producer of hybrid seed. This was the beginning of, “grown for a special purpose,” on the Gibby farm.

Spring came and it is almost planting time. A new farm building was being prepared near the large barn. It was a special building for one designated purpose. It was built of new lumber and the walls were so constructed as to allow air to circulate through the corn for proper drying. It was soon completed and stood ready to be used for a special purpose.

My brothers and I were to learn something that we never before experienced at planting time. After dad selected a field that was separated far enough from the other fields to insure that no cross pollination would occur, the soil was prepared with care and planting began. We learned that some seed was called “female” and some “male.” Three rows of female seed were planted to each row of male seed. This was repeated all across the field. It was cultivated like any corn but when it was too tall for conventional cultivation, we removed the weeds with our hoes. An inspector from the seed corn company showed up one day and said, “I want to see your seed corn field.” Well I thought that was nice, he wants to see our field of corn. He looked it over good and said, “It looks good, I'll see you later.” He was gone, but, “I'll see you later?”

Corn all around had begun to tassel. Dad had looked over the field every day and we awoke one morning, finished our chores and sat down for breakfast. Dad said today we have to get the tassels out of the female corn. But we reminded him that they were not all out where we could get to them. “We will get the ones that we can see and get.” Off to the field and dad said “lets get em before the day gets too hot” but it was already hot and it became hotter before we finished that first day. There is no machine that could do this, it must be done by hand. My cousin Clarence who lived in Bryson City, and I laugh about those days when dad made a deal with his dad for him to visit with me for a part of the summer because dad sent us into the field to remove the tassels. That inspector which said “I'll see you later” showed up at the end of the first day of removing the tassels. This time he had a notebook in his hand and as he walked through the field, he was taking notes. When he finished, he handed dad a grade slip and explained what it meant, explaining that if a certain criteria wasn't meant the seed corn would not pass and all the work would be for naught. We were in the field removing the tassels when the rain was coming down, when the lightening and thunder was going on. Nothing took precedent over the work that must be done in this field of corn. It truly was special.

That “friendly” inspector came back, with his little notebook, every two days. Our field passed his scrutiny when finally every unwanted tassel was removed and he gave us a final report and said “well done.”

Harvest time came and our treasured special corn was reaped by hand and brought to that special prepared place, the new crib. After a few weeks we removed the husks and put it into new, clean burlap bags. We shelled the corn from the cobs with a hand turned corn sheller. The final step was grading the corn down to the last grain and bagging it by grade into whit bags from the seed corn company.

This is the only story that I have about the corn crib, so I want to make a few applications. Note, that I mentioned that this seed corn was special and must be raised in a special way. A dedicated Christian is like this corn. Grown in a field separated from outside influence. Just as a christian must choose an environment without bad influence. The purity of this corn is guarded by careful hands and is finally approve by an unbiased judge as to its worthiness to be harvested by the reaper, and carried to the prepared place (the special crib). Finally it is graded down to the last grain just as we as Christians will

each have our time before the judgment seat of Christ. I want to hear from Him, “Well done.”

KEEPING THE SECRET

SECRETS ARE SECURE WITH THE GIBBY BOYS

Long before Bill would stand guard over German prisoners of war with a loaded carbine and long before Wayne would wear a MP band on his arm and an Army 45 on his side, while serving in Japan, Bill and Wayne were just farm boys along with their little brother.

There was not much excitement down on the farm in rural Clay county in the early '40s. A black cow, breaking through the fence, that we would chase for an hour or two before getting her back in, or the raising of a new farm building, was the extent of our excitement. We were fully aware of the war that was going on with Japan and Germany and heard of local boys who were called up to serve. Another unusual occurrence that brought the war to our attention was the constant flying over of bombers, fighter planes and troop carriers and troop gliders planes and being pulled by planes. We at times would lean on our hoe handles and count them to be a hundred are more. Where were they going? Always flying south and never returning north. We learned later that most were going to bases in Florida.

But one day some excitement did come to this quiet farm on the gravel road going to Fires Creek. Our eyes were to see something that we had never seen before. We just happened to be outside, oh well, that wasn't unusual, we were always outside, but on this particular day we saw a carrier pigeon strutting around our yard picking up some food to renew its strength so it could fly on to its destination,

We readily noticed that this pigeon was wearing a band on one leg. This raised our ire. What was his secret? Was it some secret message about war tactics, a message for only certain people or could this be only a practice run for the pigeon? However we wanted to know, being a little naive about the seriousness of such messages carried by a government bird. Bill said, “Lets catch it.” We did know that in all probability there was something secret in that little band. Our solution, of wanting to know, was to catch the pigeon, remove the band, read it, put it back on and send it on its way

No secrets are hidden from God. Eze 28:3 “behold, thou art wiser than Daniel; there is no SECRET that is hidden from thee;”

We cannot live lifestyles that are not right and pure and keep that a secret from God. Family and loved ones may not know but God always knows and one day it will be revealed.

Luke 8:17 For nothing is hid, that shall not be made manifest; nor anything secret, that shall not be known and come to light.

The pigeon did not know that it was carrying a secret but it did know that it didn't want to be caught.

The bird was not afraid as long as he could keep his distance. We tried to lure it close enough to catch it in our hands but it would keep a safe distance. It would eat the bread crumbs but not from our hands. We followed the bird all over the yard and to escape our aggression it ran under the smoke house which crawl pace was open on the sides and the front. “Now we got him,” someone said. We went in after him. One on each side and one from the front. Closer and closer we crawled and as we reached out to take him in hand, he zipped past us. I can see it like it happened only yesterday. We scrambled from underneath the building with enough time to see it take to the wing and circle to reset its compass and head due south, the same direction of all those planes. One brother said “he is gone.” You know, like I said, secrets are secure with the Gibby boys.

Over the years several pigeons would stop at the farm to pick up food and grit for their craws, but we never again tried to catch any of them.

While writing this I thought of several things: we have no secrets that God doesn’t know, and it is no secret that God loves us. The saving truth of the gospel is not a secret. It is not a secret that we will all stand before God in judgment and all the secrets of every heart will be revealed.