When my dad lived on Earth, he enjoyed telling family and friends about his grandfather Morton. That would be my great grandfather. I never met him, but I have a picture of the man with his immediate family. I can see the resemblance between my great grandfather and my brother Rick. These two guys were tall and lean. Well, my bro wasn’t so lean in the picture below, but his weight would come and go. Mine comes and stays. During his thinner times, Rick resembled our great grandfather to a greater extent.
Seated in the center, my great grandfather.
My Grandfather is the boy who looks about 10 years old standing next to his mother.
My brother, Rick Morton, and me.
My grandfather, the boy in the picture with sleeves too short, had white hair at an early age. So did my dad, and so do I. The DNA from the Morton side.
My great grandfather, and I wish I knew his name, was
a substitute preacher in the Methodist church. My dad loved and respected him,
as did the people in the Texas town where the Mortons lived.
My dad wasn’t around when the ancient photo was taken.
(Duh! LOL. You guessed that, right?) But as a child in the 1920s, he visited his
paternal family.
He said every night, the people in the township would
come over to the Morton house for prayer. Those who couldn’t come in person would call up to the
Morton house.
Phone types of the era. I don’t know which one the Morton family used.
Back in those days, phones were few, and folks who had
them were on a party line. These call ins must have resembled early Zoom Calls. A lot of
folks connected at the same time.
The phone receiver was brought as close as possible to my great grandfather. He then knelt and prayed in a loud voice so all could hear across the wires. He closed each evening in prayer for the community. People made requests for personal issues, and he mentioned them all to God.
In his later years, he grew sick with stomach problems.
One evening his wife cooked cabbage, and my great grandfather said, “That
smells so good.” He prayed it would stay
down, and it did. Citizens in the community begged him to ask the Lord again
for food to stay down, but he refused.
Why? I don’t know. Perhaps he thought it selfish to pray
for himself. I’ll meet him in heaven, and perhaps I'll ask. From stories I’ve heard, he must have
been special.
I see announcements on TV for people to call a number with
their need for help. A few churches maintain 24-hour prayer closets and record requests.
Individuals on Facebook ask for prayer. Strangers pray for strangers.
People need the Lord. I’m happy my family prayed for
others back in the day, and it is a blessing individuals continue to do this.
I doubt party lines exist today, but we can zoom call,
Facebook call, or leave voice mail. I’ve even texted prayers.
I hear landlines will go away and only cell phones will exist in the near future.
A couple of people phone in for my Bible Study each
Sunday morning. We don’t see each other, but they listen and make comments. Sort of like the people during my great
grandfather’s day with the audible calls.
The old is new and the new is old.
If you want to phone into my Bible study, let me know.
I’d be happy to have you. Just like my great grandfather was pleased to have listeners.
