Monday, November 5, 2012

of late I dream of Plasticville











If you were a boy growing up in the 50's or 60's trains played an important part in your life. From a small oval you could take down to the intricate display set up in the basement, you could be engineer, conductor, and brakeman all at once. For me Friday evenings spent with my Grandpa in his basement were train filled eves, as we spent time routing all the trains, seeing they got to their next station on time. But part of the realism built into any train set was Plasticville, a staple for any true train man or kid since 1947. These plastic villages that snapped together-no glue needed, helped you bring your hometown to your basement where your were the mayor, town council, and the biggest and richest business owner in town. From setting up a neighborhood, then around the corner the train depot and downtown, to the rich bucolic farmland, it was all within your reach, and your pocketbook. It was a place where a kid could be a man, and a man could be a kid again, all surrounded by O gauge tracks, plaster of Paris mountains, trestles, and Plasticville. It was home, and everyone was welcome...provided they liked trains and it wasn't your little sister. Somehow the appeal of trains hadn't quite bridged the gender gap yet-another trestle yet to be built.
But Plasticville gave your train set a personality. It added life and realism. The Fire Station with the doors that opened, the old train car on railroad ties used as a work station, and the train depot itself added realism. Later as you added the grocery store, power plant, the motel-complete with pool, and various styles of homes, you had a town and a place of your own. Plasticville may have been representative of anyone's hometown, but in your basement it was your hometown. Your rules, your trains, and your imagination-the only limiting factor on how great a town you would build. It was Mayberry with small town values, a bank with no guard needed, a firehouse where no fires occurred, and a motel with new guests every night-welcomed just like the sign said. It was a downtown where the grocery store still made deliveries, parking places with no meters, a town hall where the mayor was always in, and his door was open. A place where it was OK to be a kid, and adults welcomed them. Yes sir and yes mam were correct answers, and may I and can I were expected questions. It was the streetlights at night guiding you home, and the lightning bugs you gathered in jars. It was neighbors being neighborly, strangers being greeted and made welcome, and it was like no other place on earth, it just happened to be in your basement. A place to get off of the train of life, and find rest, peace, and solitude. It was heaven on earth..and of late I dream of Plasticville.
Adam and Eve used to walk with God in the cool of the day. Imagine if you would, just walking with God, animals all at peace, no bad weather, and no set of laws to guide you, just you and God. You could be yourself. A special time Adam must have looked forward to every day, and Eve too. But then they decided to go off on their own-and it all came crashing down. Sin entered their perfect world, by their choice. And although God offers them and us forgiveness through Jesus Christ, the remnants are there to remind us. We see the crime, the broken marriages and homes. We see the empty buildings where once business thrived, and empty stations where trains no longer deliver American made goods made in American factories. Who deposit their paycheck in an American bank, and pay their taxes to a fair American government. We have become consumed by ourselves, and when we hear God offers us rest, think it is a day off to sleep in. But His rest is from within, and affects the outside-not the other way around. He gives our soul rest, our emotions a break, and our bodies time to recover. Freedom from worry, fear, hunger, and life...He gives life to those on life support. His offer is free, but few accept it, although so many ask for it. It takes a recognition that the life I built isn't working. My Plasticville is in pieces, the fire burned down the fire house, and we no longer can set our watches by the train whistle-for it stopped long ago. It has left us frustrated for how things were, could have been, and how we wish they were again. Maybe that is why we long to go back to the garden.
Heaven awaits all who believe. Jesus tells us that if it weren't so He wouldn't have told us. Good advice, which only works if taken. So trust Him today...watch as while the trains in the world never run on time, that yours, like Jesus, is always on time, and is never late. He never hurried, yet was always on time. So take the time now to stop what you are doing, get onto a different route than the express. Don't complain about the many stops it makes, enjoy the Plasticvilles along the way. And when you come to a hill called Calvary, make that your next stop. Enjoy the view, and remember what happened there, it just may be the most important stop you will ever make. And it is OK to go back and take others...their Plasticville may be waiting for them there to be built. Is yours?
I can remember many times my Grandma calling us up for bed, and not answering. I was fast asleep, resting in my Grandpa's arms. Many times I never made the stairs, he would carry me to bed. Let God carry you up those steps today, resting in His arms. Knowing that all is safe and well in His world, and that tomorrow evening you will be back in Plasticville again, playing out your dreams as God sees that all your wishes come true. No glue needed, for like Jesus, He just snaps together and fits perfectly, and His love will hold you together.
All aboard for Plasticville! Next stop...His rest is up to you.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com