It’s a good thing I can’t see into the future. A week ago I would never have imagined that the governor of Kentucky would have appeared on TV and asked that churches not conduct services for a while. Neither would I have imagined that there would have been a run on toilet paper, peanut butter and ramen noodles. We were warned a long time ago things could change in the blink of an eye, and it’s proving true.

Thus, I’m sitting at home reading my Sunday school lesson instead of sitting in church.

While looking through the book I noticed next week’s lesson is on faith. So I read it instead. It’s based on Hebrews 11:1-3.

“Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen. For by it our ancestors won God’s approval. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things not visible.”

Faith gives gives me confidence. Faith is an inward conviction.

Friends, as bad as things seem at the moment they will get better. I believe it.

I am reminded of something that happened on our farm back in the 1940s.

A man that lived on our farm was wrongfully convicted of murder while trying to protect his wife during an altercation. The court appointed him an inept attorney to defend him before a jury that was not of his peers. Few of the facts, if any, were presented. Since he had killed another man of his own race the death penalty wasn’t pressed for. He was sentenced to life in prison.

Of course his family was distraught. He was simply trying to protect his wife from being assaulted.

During those days my father was in Europe fighting in World War II. The man’s family wrote him about their plight, asking him if there was anything he could do.

Of course being thousands of miles away and engaged in combat he could do nothing. But he wrote back that as soon as the war was over and he returned home he would see what he could do.

The war ended and as he had promised, he began to do his own investigation. With the facts that he had gathered he tracked down each member of the jury and informed them of what he had learned. Each juror agreed that there had been a miscarriage of justice and signed a petition to have the man exonerated. With all the signatures he went to the judge that officiated over the trial and presented the petition to him. The judge was impressed and signed it, too.

At that point my father made an appointment with the governor of Mississippi, hoping to get a full pardon for the man.

The day of the meeting came. My father got in his old truck and drove down to the state capital.

He found the governor’s office and spoke with his secretary, informing her that he was there for his appointment. She was cordial and instructed him to have a seat outside in the hallway. She would inform the governor that he was there.

So he did. My father sat out there a long time. A very long time. Finally the secretary came out and informed him that governor had been unexpectedly called away on an urgent matter. But not to worry, there was someone else that would be able to meet with him. Then she led him down the hall and into another office. A man behind a large desk motioned for him to take a seat and present his petition. After my father had finished the fellow behind the desk leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up and began to speak.

“Mr. Algood, you’re a farmer, aren’t you?”

Daddy acknowledged that he was.

“Well sir, the governor is, too. In fact the governor has hundreds of acres he farms all across the state. And on those farms he has a lot of mules to do that farming. Now, the governor dearly loves those magnificent beasts that pull those plows.

There’s one mule that is a particular favorite of his. Unfortunately that mule has come up lame. Must’ve stepped on a rock or something.”

My father was listening.

“Sir, what good is a mule like that to the governor? He would like to sell that magnificent animal, but no one wants a lame mule.”

My father began to understand.

“Mr. Algood, you wouldn’t happen to know anyone that would want to purchase this mule, would you?”

“I might. What would the governor happen to want for this mule?”

The man sat up and leaned forward over the desk, “The governor would let that beast go for $1,200.”

I’m certain there was a brief pause at that point as Daddy considered the words he had just heard. That was a tremendous amount of money. Fortunately he had been sending money home all during the war. Plus, his widowed mother had kept things going on the home front while he was away.

“Will a check be alright?”

It was. He wrote out the check and slid it across the desk.

The man took it, stood, and said, “l suppose we’re done here. You go on home and we’ll contact you about this petition of yours.”

Daddy left the capital, got into his truck and drove home to Winston County.

Later he received a phone call informing him that the man in prison had been granted a full pardon. The caller said he could drive over to the prison located in the delta and pick him up.

He did.

When I remember this chapter of my father’s life I can picture with my mind’s eye that man climbing on that imaginary mule and riding it to freedom.

It took a lot of work to get to that point.

It, also, took a lot of faith to purchase an imaginary mule. Faith. It’s a powerful thing.

That’s what we need to lean on in the days ahead as we face this plague spreading across our land. His will will be done one way or another.

We need to pray. We need to prepare. We need to prioritize. Then we need to be at peace as our faith carries us through the coming days.

Have enough faith to buy an imaginary mule. He’s in control of things seen and unseen. He’s got this.

_______________
Rick Algood
March 15, 2020