It was a little more than a week ago that my dear friend and companion, Silas, passed away. I saw it coming...
He hadn't been acting right and was making strange noises. On an increasing number of occasions, Silas would stop moving altogether, and I would have to reach inside him and juggle some of his parts to get him to start working again. Silas was my faithful typewriter. He worked with me every day for more than three years and four months until his death.
Silas was a workhorse. Whenever I'd plug him into the electrical outlet in my prison cell and turn him on, he would immediately and obediently spring to life. Eventually he'd turn out thousands upon thousands of neatly typed pages. Silas put out hundreds of pages of journal entries, and God only knows how many thousands of pages for my letters, Bible studies, sermon messages, and whatever else I needed. Silas will be missed.
God, however, was generous to provide me with a replacement. A dear friend placed an order for another typewriter, which arrived several days ago. I was thankful to get it, and I'm using it now. But thus far I've yet to give it a name.
Silas was a "Brother" product. He performed flawlessly until a few weeks ago, when he began to malfunction more and more until his ultimate demise. Actually, few people even use electric typewriters nowadays. But as a prisoner in New York State, I am not permitted to use or own a personal computer. As a general rule, inmates are many years behind when it comes to technology. For the most part, we're kept perpetually ignorant of new gadgets and modern implements. Even basic typewriters like mine are increasingly harder to come by.
In any event, I now have a new machine to handle my correspondence and ministry paperwork. And this far it is working fine. I even prayed for my new typewriter right after it came out of the box. I only hope, however, that he could handle the workload. My typewriter, I believe, needs God's daily grace as much as I do.
D.B.
Silas was a workhorse. Whenever I'd plug him into the electrical outlet in my prison cell and turn him on, he would immediately and obediently spring to life. Eventually he'd turn out thousands upon thousands of neatly typed pages. Silas put out hundreds of pages of journal entries, and God only knows how many thousands of pages for my letters, Bible studies, sermon messages, and whatever else I needed. Silas will be missed.
God, however, was generous to provide me with a replacement. A dear friend placed an order for another typewriter, which arrived several days ago. I was thankful to get it, and I'm using it now. But thus far I've yet to give it a name.
Silas was a "Brother" product. He performed flawlessly until a few weeks ago, when he began to malfunction more and more until his ultimate demise. Actually, few people even use electric typewriters nowadays. But as a prisoner in New York State, I am not permitted to use or own a personal computer. As a general rule, inmates are many years behind when it comes to technology. For the most part, we're kept perpetually ignorant of new gadgets and modern implements. Even basic typewriters like mine are increasingly harder to come by.
In any event, I now have a new machine to handle my correspondence and ministry paperwork. And this far it is working fine. I even prayed for my new typewriter right after it came out of the box. I only hope, however, that he could handle the workload. My typewriter, I believe, needs God's daily grace as much as I do.
D.B.
