THE BUILDER

For Adam Jones


My toy blocks are words. Yet, I have a nephew who builds with steel and wood. He followed in my footsteps in grain management but excelled my example.

Then, one day, I read a poem Adam wrote about Carl; shell casings was the subject matter. Another was one about Carl’s work ethics and character. Each poem was more gracious than the last.

I was totally dumbfounded. Why, because his ability surpassed mine. Was I jealous? No, not even a smidgeon. Because, like me, he is directed by the Holy Spirit for the Glory of the Father.

Then came 'The Old Red Barn.’

Adam, I do not have enough superlatives to tell you how proud I am to be your uncle.

The parable is this: You are excelling at Clarey Construction and using your talents for building up, not tearing down. Your Uncle Roger is a trash man. You, Adam, are the builder of a new generation that is of eternal blocks that nothing can destroy.

Love, Uncle Roger