Newt Buswell's clippers

Last year when I realized that I would be leaving my beloved Spring Hills to pastor my own church I had no idea where I would end up. I knew that I did not want to be within driving distance of my home church because it would just be odd for me to pastor so close to my family of 16 years. I knew that I did not really want to go to the Bible belt, they have plenty of pastors there. I also knew from our good friend Melissa that Alaska was not necessarily the place for me. Other than that, the whole country was fair game.

I looked in Arizona, Nevada, Pennsylvania, New England, other parts of California and several other places. For years I had thought it would be nice to move to Karen's old stomping ground in Southern Vermont or New Hampshire, but I did not think that it would be practical. When I came here to do Grammie Buswell's funeral in October it hit me like a 2x4 upside the head that this was where I needed to be. I was overwhelmed with the need for a healthy church here.

I moved here because I knew it was the place for me to start a church, but the heritage of Karen's family means a lot to me. This is the area where my wife became a Christian. It is the area where her grandfather and her great great grandfather pastored a church. It is the area where the awesome Newt and Ina Buswell lived.

These are Newt Buswell's clippers:

Newt and Ina were very important figures in Karen's childhood, much like my grandparents were important in mine. I am so grateful for all that they did for her and all they meant to the rest of family. My respect for both of them is immeasurable.

I used Newt Buswell's clippers to trim the grass around our mobile home today. A weed eater is not a good idea against the skirting that surrounds our home. As I crawled on hands and knees snipping away I felt very satisfied. Using his tool on my home in the town he lived in his whole life felt just right.

I hope I can be half the man he was.