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That title does seem a bit redundant, doesn’t it? Aren’t all beginnings "new," or are some newer than others? With the Labor Day weekend traditionally marking the beginning of another school year and the fall season, let me tell you about some of my repeated "new beginnings." You probably share many of these same experiences.
Just like all the other kids, I could hardly wait. I had fidgeted in my chair all day long, only halfway concentrating on my last few assignments that would wrap up the work for another year. The teacher always came around to make sure that we had properly erased all marks, accidental or otherwise, from the textbooks which would be used by another student the next year.
The clock dragged its hands around the circle of numbers like a giant, lumbering turtle sunning on the beach, moving so slowly and deliberately that you could barely tell that there was any progress being made at all. Every tick of the second hand seemed to take four seconds instead of the requisite one.It was the same every year: the end was really the beginning, just like two sides of the same sheet of paper—different, distinct, and unique, but inseparable nonetheless. You can’t throw away just one side of a piece of paper.
Finally and thankfully, the last bell rang, and we were free at last! What an exhilarating feeling it was to look forward to a summer with no homework! A new beginning!
Some of you readers from my generation will probably remember the lyrics of an old song that touted "those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer." Sounds great—but that was not the kind of summer the kids in my family usually got to enjoy. The thrill of being out of school was soon swallowed up by days spent doing summer chores.
In place of pencil, paper and brainpower working together, came the ache of the back and legs bent over to pull weeds out of the onion, lettuce, greens and carrot patches. The warm sun, once a gentle friend, became an enemy as our sweaty arms and backs first burned under its relentless rays, then turned to a leathery tan as we hoed endless rows of corn, green beans, potatoes, beets, tomatoes, and cabbage.
Now, don’t think I’m complaining too heartily here. I knew that the work of the summer paid off in the winter, but I wanted to do other things—things that were more fun, like playing "Cowboys and Indians" in the woods that surrounded our 48-acre farm, or spending hours swinging on the grapevine that had taken us out over that 30-foot ravine and brought us back safely hundreds upon thousands of times. To us kids in Fayette County, West Virginia, this was our "King’s Island" and the grapevine was our "Beast." Those times of "just being a kid" were always too short; work came bashing through the seclusion of those woods, demanding our attention and time--usually heralded in a high-pitched, half-yodel of our names sounded by our mom, or a gruff, demanding baritone version clearly projected by my dad.
Soon, the cherries ripened on the trees, and we stripped every single cherry as far out on the limb as we dared to scramble, cheating the birds out of every bite that we possibly could. Honestly, we were all pretty good pickers considering that we had no ladders to use.
When all our trees were bare, we picked the neighbors’ trees clean. Sometimes we worked on a 50-50 sharing basis; sometimes the neighbors let us pick their trees in exchange for just enough fruit to make a good-sized cobbler. I can remember closing my eyes at night and seeing countless handfuls of cherries just waiting to be picked.
Then the blackberries ripened. We filled #3 washtubs with piles of dark, sweet berries, almost faster than our mom could cook them and get them into the Mason jars. I liked the green jars best because there weren’t many of them around in those days. I also liked those translucent blue jars that Bell made. Any diversion from the traditional clear canning jar was a welcome sight that made the job of cleaning them a little more interesting and bearable.
Sometimes I got to stay at home instead of going back to the berry patch to fill our buckets again and again. But this was no great treat: I was just the right size for my hand to easily slide into the mouth of those canning jars and clean each one in hot, sudsy water with an old dishcloth. The best treat was finding an occasional wide-mouth jar to wash; I often wondered why we didn’t use that kind all the time. They were certainly easier to clean, as well as easier to fill and empty. They must have cost more.
By this time in the summer, I could hardly wait for the beginning of school, even though a full month and a half still had to pass. Time had turned into a turtle once again, and each day seemed longer than the last.
Soon the beans and tomatoes were ready for picking and canning, and the gardens (notice "s" indicating the plural noun) were filled with produce that had to be "put up" right away. As soon as the gardens were pretty well established, the Transparent apples were ready; they made the best applesauce of all, but they rotted quickly if left on the ground very long. It was a good idea to get to them immediately and pick the tree before you had to battle the yellow jackets for the best of the crop.
Eventually it was time to go back to school, and the same old halls that seemed tiring and boring the previous spring now beckoned with the laughter of friends and the bright prospects of new things to do and learn in a new grade with a new teacher. Once again, the end of one thing had melded into the new beginning of another.
Looking back on all this now, it really wasn’t all that bad—or all that much work, especially for me, the youngest brother. My older brothers had to work a lot harder than I did. That said, there’s still no way you could talk me into "settin’ out a hundred and fifty" tomato plants or planting an acre of sweet corn. It’s the Farmers’ Market for me these days!
I am thankful that God gives us so many opportunities for "new beginnings." I find the breadth, depth and sheer number of applicable scriptures to be encouraging and truly profound. You may want to look up just these few passages in your Bible that speak of "newness." Here are some suggestions for you:
- A New Birth John 3:3
- A New Life in Christ --Romans 6:4
- A New Covenant --Hebrews 8:8
- New Attitudes --2 Corinthians 5:17
- New Mercies --Lamentations 3:23
- A New and Living Way --Hebrews 10:20
- A New Name --Revelation 3:12
- A New Song --Psalm 40:3
- New Comfort --John 14:16
- A New Home --John 14:1-3
These gifts of newness from God mark changes in lives that spark new beginnings for us every day. Perhaps God gave us the changing of the seasons, the unfolding of night into day, the melting of day into night, the turning of rain to snow, the end of one week turning into the beginning of another, a new month, or a new year, and all similar new beginnings as examples of the newness of life in Christ.
Jesus’ death on the cross of Calvary was only one side of the same page. He willingly laid down His life to pay the debt of sin for all mankind; but then He rose again from the grave that we might be reconciled to God and start our lives all over again: a new beginning, this time, clothed in His righteousness.
Each new day bids that all come to Christ--some for the first time ever, others for the beginning of another day in which to walk in His Way for His glory. Are you interested in new things---maybe new cars, new houses, new toys, new computers, or new clothes? I believe that God gave us a restlessness with the mundane and the ordinary so that we might be inclined to seek out new things. How about starting with a new birth?
If we can help you better understand these concepts, please contact us. The best new beginnings are the spiritual ones shared with "new babes" in Christ.
Jim McQuerrey
Pastor of Worship Ministries
© 2002 Bible Center Church![]()