Seeds of Faith: A Story of Christ's Love and Redemption in a Small Town

By Howard Duryea

Most Christians, and even some non-Christians, know the parable of the Sower of the Seeds. Jesus told this parable to a crowd of people who were following him. In Seeds of Faith you will see, through the life of one pastor named Larry Ballholland and a young man named Matthew, how the gospel is spread to the many colorful characters who live in a small town in northern New York. You will follow these characters through their numerous, joyous and sorrowful experiences; from eel fishing on Lake Ontario to struggling with sobriety to the bonds of friendship and how one tragedy changed many lives in the small town of Beaumont. Although the town and characters are fictitious, the reactions the inhabitants have to the presentation of the gospel of Jesus Christ are similar to those the author has witnessed throughout his Christian life. As you read this book try to determine which type of soil; hard, stony, thorny or good soil, the seeds of faith, the gospel, falls on as it is presented to the different characters in the book. It is hoped that through reading Seeds of Faith, you will have a broadened understanding of how a person may receive the good news of forgiveness of sin and offer of salvation through a belief and trust in Jesus Christ. This story also shows how the saving grace of Jesus Christ comforts and transforms the people of this small town. You will see how the Holy Spirit can take the hard soil of a person's heart and eventually cultivate it into good soil with good depth resulting in a faithful, fruitful Christian life thereafter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098013752

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Seeds of Faith

A Story of Christ's Love and Redemption in a Small Town

Howard C. Duryea

Copyright © 2019 by Howard C. Duryea

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

This is a work of Christian fiction. The names, characters, places, businesses, events and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictious manor. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or places is purely coincidental.

Illustrations by Elizabeth Duryea

Book Cover: Cross pendant by Elizabeth Kerr, The Bent Nail, www.thebentnail603.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

This book is dedicated to Pastor Donald Ball and Pastor Larry Holland in appreciation for their counsel and guidance over the years and for their example of Christlike servants and tireless crusaders for the cause of Christ. Their preaching of the gospel, the good news of God’s grace, forgiveness and salvation through Jesus Christ to the lost of this world has led many to a personal relationship with God through His son Jesus Christ.

This book is also dedicated to my beautiful wife Elizabeth for her love, support, suggestions and tireless work in helping me complete this book.

Introduction

Most Christians, and even some non-Christians, have heard of the parable of the sower of the seeds. It occurs in three gospels, Matthew 13:1–23 and Mark 4: 1–20 and Luke 8:4–15. In the parable according to Matthew Jesus says:

The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side.

And great multitudes were gathered together unto him, so that he went into a ship, and sat; and the whole multitude stood on the shore.

And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, Behold, a sower went forth to sow;

And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up:

Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth:

And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away.

And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them:

But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.

Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.

Now this was spoken as a parable and his disciples, afterward, asked Jesus to explain the meaning of the parable.

He said the following:

Hear ye therefore the parable of the sower.

When anyone heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not, then cometh the wicked one, and catcheth away that which was sown in his heart. This is he which received seed by the wayside.

But he that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it;

Yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while: for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.

He also that received seed among the thorns is he that heareth the word; and the care of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful.

But he that received seed into good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirty.

What many Christians may not realize is that a person’s heart may go through one or some or all of these descriptions of soil, depending on how receptive they were spiritually at the time the seeds were sown.

When presenting the gospel to someone, it is the Holy Spirit that opens their hearts to receiving the word of the kingdom, the seeds of faith. But depending on their receptiveness to the prodding of the Holy Spirit, the depth the Holy Spirit is able to prepare the soil of their heart may be limited. However, over time, the Holy Spirit is often able to unharden the heart of a nonbeliever, and in doing such prepares a more fertile ground for the seeds of faith to be sown.

Through the characters you will meet in this book, you will see how the seeds of faith can be sown in a variety of soils. Some soils can be cultivated by the Holy Spirt into fertile ground that once was hard or stony or filled with thorns and yield a heart with good soil that not only accepts the gift of salvation but bears fruit in passing on the knowledge of salvation to others.

As you read this book and learn about the characters, try to determine which type of soil the seeds of faith fall on. And remember, the ground that once was stony can suddenly become soil with depth, depending on how they allow the Holy Spirit to cultivate the soil of their hearts.

So, if you are a Christian reading this book, I hope you can identify with one or more of the characters, depending on how long it took the Holy Spirit to cultivate the soil of your heart. And if you are not a Christian, you will see how the seeds of faith, when accepted into the soil of your heart and allowed to be prepared by the Holy Spirt, can lead to an everlasting change in your heart and the way you live.

Chapter 1

It was July 1977, and Elvis was dead. Matthew pulled the comforter off himself as he slowly sat up on the side of his bed. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood up. The house was quiet except for the sound of a metal spatula on a pan in the kitchen just down the hall from his bedroom. He walked over to his dresser, got out a pair of socks, T-shirt, and folded blue jeans and put them on. He was still wiping the sleep from his eyes as he went down the hallway to the kitchen.

Morning, Mom, he said as he pulled the chair from the kitchen table and sat down. His mother was at the stovetop, preparing hamburger for the sloppy joes they would eat for dinner that night.

Matthew’s mom, Mary Jenkins, was an attractive woman of slim build. Her brown hair was tied in a tight bun, and she had a flowered apron on to protect the light-blue gingham dress she wore often to work at the phone company. The announcer on the radio news spoke of the King and how drugs were most likely involved in his premature death.

Oh, why don’t they let that poor man rest in peace? Matthew’s mother said as her voice cracked with sadness. I heard he was a Christian and that he loved his mama, she added, her voice sounding stronger. Matthew had heard that tearful voice often since his father died almost one year ago to this very day.

Matthew’s dad worked at a local sawmill. His dad loved his work. He was the man who controlled the saw blade at the plant. Matthew’s dad often spoke of his job and how it was like a combination of an art form and engineering. He would tell Matthew that he only had seconds to decide how he would cut a long log to get the most from the wood. It was a high-pressure job as he got paid based on the board feet of cut lumber he would produce in a day. His dad was very good at his job, and he took pride in his work.

One day while he was cutting a log, the log got caught on the conveyor. He left his position as cutter and went over to try to free up the stuck log. He was pushing against the log with a crowbar when the log unexpectedly gave way. His father lost his footing on the sawdust on the floor, falling into the forty-eight-inch rotating blade of the saw. The blade cut a two-foot gash in his chest, abdomen and neck. He died almost instantly.

Matthew never recalled seeing his mother cry before that day, but since then, he has seen her cry many mornings and evenings. It seemed whenever any mention of death occurred, whether human or animal, it brought his mother to tears.

He picked up the carton of milk on the table and poured it over his cornflakes. He then dipped his spoon into the sugar bowl three times and sprinkled it on his cereal. His mother wiped the tears from her eyes and, with as cheery a voice as she could muster, asked, So what plans do you have for today? You’re almost halfway through your summer vacation.

Matthew swallowed the cornflakes in his mouth and said, Well, first thing I have to do is fix that flat tire on my bike. Matthew’s bike was his pride and joy.

Matthew’s paper route took him to Shorty’s Bar. Yesterday, while delivering the newspaper to Shorty’s, he ran over a broken beer bottle in front of the bar. At closing time, some of the patrons would take their half-filled bottles of beer with them as they left the bar. Someone either dropped or purposely broke a bottle on the street in front of the bar. Matthew saw the broken glass, but it was too late to turn his bike tire, and it was punctured with a shard of glass.

I patched the inner tube yesterday, he said. It should be good and dry today.

Matthew could not afford to have his bike out of commission as both he and his mother needed the small income from his paper route to help make ends meet since his father died.

Before the accident that killed his father, his mother stayed home, tending to the chores of the house. She cooked, cleaned, and cared for her two men as she would say. Matthew’s dad left no life insurance behind. The small amount the mill gave her for his death was spent quickly toward paying the funeral costs. His mom now worked at the local telephone company as an operator. That along with Matthew’s money from his paper route and doing odd jobs around town just barely made ends meet. It was in the time before his father’s accident when Matthew bought his pride and joy. It took six months of saving the money he made on his paper route, including tips, doing chores for neighbors, and cutting grass to save up enough to afford to buy his bike. He knew he wanted it the first time he saw it in the window of Mr. McGinty’s bike shop in Rivercrest. Every Saturday, he and his father and mother would go into the next big town, Rivercrest, to buy their groceries. During the week, they would buy small things, like bread and milk, from the local Big M Market on Main Street in town. But on Saturdays, they did the bulk of their week’s shopping at the Great American supermarket in Rivercrest. The prices were better there, and they had a larger selection to choose from than in the Big M. Afterward, on their way home, they would drive by Mr. McGinty’s store. It seemed to Matthew it was providence that the light would often be red at the intersection of the corner where the bike shop was. This allowed him a few minutes, while they waited for the light to change, to admire the Schwinn Stingray bike displayed in the window. The bike was used but Mr. McGinty was known for reconditioning bikes he picked up at local yard sales and flea markets as well as selling new bikes. Each time he passed the shop Matthew would look over every inch of the bike and imagine himself riding it down Main Street of Beaumont. He even envisioned himself riding with no hands and sometimes even popping wheelies down Main Street.

It had everything a young boy could want in a bike. It was newly painted golden orange with high-rise handlebars. The handgrips and seat were white with gold sparkles embedded in the plastic. The seat was a banana seat with pleating. The back of the seat had a sissy bar, which rose up four inches from the seat to keep him from sliding off, he supposed, when he was popping wheelies down the road. On the crossbar of the frame was a five-speed gearshift with a shiny white shifter knob on the chrome-plated stick shift. Also on either side of the rear tire were two saddle baskets. Mr. McGinty fabricated the baskets that were not a typical option for the Stingray bike. Matthew felt that this was a perfect addition for his paper route. He dreamed about riding this bike for almost six months each Saturday he went past the bike shop. He gave up soda. He gave up Snickers bars and comic books. He even put off getting a new first-baseman glove just to be able to ride that bike down Main Street in Beaumont. All the time praying no one would buy the bike before he had time to earn enough money. And now, the bike of his dreams was incapacitated by a flat tire from a broken beer bottle.

Matthew got up from the table and gave his mom a kiss and a hug.

Remember to mind the traffic while you’re delivering those papers, she instructed. And you be home by five thirty for dinner. You call me if there are any problems, you hear? she said.

Yes, ma’am, he answered.

It was the same instructions every day of the year even during school. During the school year, she would remind him to complete as much of his homework as possible before she got home and that she would help him with the rest if he needed help.

Matthew turned all the money he made from the paper route and doing odd jobs over to his mother each week. As he made the money, he placed it in a coffee can sitting on his bedroom dresser until Saturday evening came. On Saturday evening, his mother would first take ten percent out. For the Lord’s tithe, she would say. She then would give him back a small portion of it for him to spend or save, whichever he decided. She would then quote scripture, 1 Timothy 5:18, saying, You don’t muzzle the ox while he treads out the corn and The laborer is worthy of his reward.

Matthew’s mother put the cooked hamburger into a bowl and placed it in the refrigerator. She then took her apron off and grabbed the car keys from the hook in the kitchen to leave for work. Matthew followed her outside, gave her another hug and a kiss and they both said, I love you to each other, then she got into the car and drove off.

He then grabbed the wrench from the kitchen drawer and went out to his bike.

It took him only five or ten minutes to push the rubber inner tube with the patch back into the tire. He then reset the tire into the rim then used a hand pump to fill the tire with air. He had just placed the tire into the front fork and began to tighten the nut that held it in place when Nathan walked over.

Hey, Matty, what’re you up to? Nathan asked.

Matthew stood up. There, walking toward him, was Nathan Roberts. He was wearing dirty blue jeans and a dirty white T-shirt. He had a Camel cigarette in his right hand and one behind his ear. He took a long drag off the shortened remainder of the cigarette and flicked away the ash with the tip of his finger as he exhaled the smoke through his nose.

Your mom home? he asked.

No, she left for work, Matthew answered

Great, your mom doesn’t like me very much. Matthew knew Nathan was right. Not only Matthew’s mom, but almost all the mothers in town disliked their sons palling around with Nathan. Nathan was what his mom called a bad seed. And she would further add, Bad seeds don’t fall far from a bad tree.

Nathan came from a notorious family in town. Nathan would be the first to tell you his father was a thief. His dad was currently doing five years upstate in the maximum-security prison in Dannemora. He was sent there after stealing cars and selling the parts with two other men.

Nathan, himself, had several skirmishes with the law as a young man. One of these landed him in the summer Division for Youth Correctional work camp in the Adirondacks for troubled youths.

It was a court-ordered placement. But Matthew saw something in Nathan that others either couldn’t or didn’t want to see.

Where Nathan was tall, broad shouldered, and muscular, Matthew was thin, average height, and not very athletic. One afternoon two years before, Matthew was sitting alone on the school steps when two older boys approached. They started making fun of his small build. Calling him nancy boy then started pushing him around. Matthew tried to fight back, but he didn’t know how. His father always told him a Christian fights with the words of God, not with his fists. But at that moment, Matthew couldn’t think of anything scriptural to say that would counter the punches of these two big bullies. Matthew had been holding back the tears as best he could while trying to resist the two thugs. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he was just about to lose it when Nathan came over.

What do you boys think you’re doing? he asked.

The bigger of the two boys spoke first. This punk gave us lip.

Yeah, the second one chimed in.

Well, what if I give you some lip, what’re you going to do about that? Nathan asked.

Both looked at each other. Neither responded.

Now I know, Matty. He don’t give nobody no lip. And if you two ‘nancy boys’ want to pick on someone, you can start with me, he responded as he moved toward the two boys.

We got no fight with you, Nate, the bigger one said as they both backed away.

Matthew is my friend, Nathan said. If you got a problem with him, you got a problem with me, see?

Now Nathan was big for his grade, having been left back twice already. But it was his reputation for being unstable, a bully, and always itching for a fight that made him an even bigger threat in the eyes of most of his peers.

So, he asked, you got a problem with me?

No, Nate, they said simultaneously.

Good, now you boys go on your way. He paused then said, And, in the future, if you have a problem with Matty, you can come to me first, you understand?

The two boys nodded then walked away. Matthew was a little confused over the whole encounter. He wasn’t sure why he was targeted by the two bullies, and he sure couldn’t figure out why Nathan came to his rescue. Nathan walked away too, without saying anything more.

It wasn’t until a week later when Nathan sat down next to him in the cafeteria during lunch that it became clear.

"Any of those boys been