I had no idea…earthly or spiritual…how “triggering” my note about the cattle auction was.
Yesterday morning at our 10 a.m. solve all the world’s problems, I shared my joy [and personal frustration] at being at the Lexington Cattle Auction [capitalized, for sure] was. I said I couldn’t understand what the auctioneer, a wonderful friend because he puts up with me, was saying. And that he only asked one bidder his name…and the most puzzling, how in the world the auctioneer knew who was bidding when and for what amount?
Oh, boy, was I clued in. The auctioneer and his sister and family were in church yesterday, following which he explained that I was right on one account…he knew every bidder there—must have been at least 70—except one. “Yeah, I know ‘em but not Mr. League, but the rest? I know.” I then asked him about how he knew about the bids…”small gestures each of them has.”
Must admit I’d love that gift, to read facial body language when preaching…”are we connected?” “Are you okay with the thought?” “Dismayed?” And my best one, I hope their eyes are closed for concentration on the thought. But, hey, I then give thanks to God I’m a cure for their insomnia.
One of my dearest colleagues, Sandy in Colorado, now knowing life’s “transition” is more present than any of us wish, wrote, “Ah, auctions? Went to them all the time in Iowa. I get it.” Sandy, only love and prayers and appreciation to and for you. And, deep truth, you not only get auctions…profoundly, you “get” ministry and caring and pastoral presence! I am a witness, for sure.
And then, from a high school graduate—same class at Jefferson High School in Portland, Oregon, Class of ’58 [don’t get smart on this…that’s 1958 not a century earlier], wrote…illuminated my day…goes like this:
Today I’ll call you Mr. Mark. You’ve deserved it. Aren’t auctions a hoot! I love ’em whether for antiques, animals, art, or junk. I love ’em! My uncle was an auctioneer. He knew, one time, I was drooling over 3 books I didn’t think I could ever have. He must have talked with the owners ’cause I ended up owning ’em that evening. I was a teenager and I still go coo coo over books and I’ll meet a friend at an auction ’cause we both love ’em. Now, I’m way too poor to buy or even think of buying a piece of junk. But I can go & sit in that electric room. Marianne
Have some answers now about how Keith auctions and what to look for. How each bidder has his own sign-language, and I bet Keith has Mr. League all figured out! However, I will assure my wife, Diane, and our three kids, Faith, Copper and Joshua, they won’t have to share their back yard with Mr. Bull.
Still, learning new things…makes this Monday morning a smile. Then to consider for next Sunday, how none of us should ever be a grasshopper. Profound thanks to Joshua and Caleb for that conviction.
Have a great week…