A handsome, strong, Paul Bunyan-type of a man, he owned logging trucks and hauled logs out of the deep Piney Woods of Texas to the sawmills to make a living for himself and the love of his life. On the morning of November 30, 1949, he came by his son’s house where his daughter also had an apartment for a quick visit and a cup of coffee before he started his day. She heard his voice and thought about going in and visiting, but the comfy bed held her tight. That afternoon, the call came. While he was up on the logs, adjusting the load, the cant hook broke, allowing him to fall to his death with a broken neck and his last words of, “Oh, my God!”
Life in the Elias Die family would never be the same for he was the hinge pin of stalwart faith and confidence in God upon which they all hung. He was the one who set that daughter’s arm in a wooden match box when she broke it as a young girl. He prayed in Jesus’ Name and the arm healed perfectly. He was the one who invited anyone who needed dinner home with his large family of seven children and would assure his wife, Mary, that there would be plenty of food, and the Lord always saw to it that there was. And when she was distraught about some issue, he would just say, “Now, Mary, stay sweet in your soul.” And he was the man who never said an unkind word nor sued the people who tore down his country home and moved it away even as his sons begged them not to, saying, “Papa is coming back to this house someday.”
Life in the Elias Die family would never be the same for he was the hinge pin of stalwart faith and confidence in God upon which they all hung. He was the one who set that daughter’s arm in a wooden match box when she broke it as a young girl. He prayed in Jesus’ Name and the arm healed perfectly. He was the one who invited anyone who needed dinner home with his large family of seven children and would assure his wife, Mary, that there would be plenty of food, and the Lord always saw to it that there was. And when she was distraught about some issue, he would just say, “Now, Mary, stay sweet in your soul.” And he was the man who never said an unkind word nor sued the people who tore down his country home and moved it away even as his sons begged them not to, saying, “Papa is coming back to this house someday.”
Hinge Pin—the pin that holds a joint or device on which a door, gate, lid, etc. swings. Anything on which matters turn or depend.
I once received a tiny plant in a Styrofoam cup several years ago called an airplane plant. I transplanted it and watched it grow. It now has long stems and additional plants are now growing off of each of those stems. They hinge on that stem, staying attached to the main plant, in order to receive food and water and thrive. They will not survive if they become disconnected from their hinge pin.
We are all a Hinge Pin for someone. Who is depending upon you to hold them together, to be the pin that connects them to God or to anything that is even remotely Godly in their lives? What will happen to the people around you if you should suddenly be removed or if you should remove yourself from them?
As you pass through the many doors in your life, may you always look at the Hinge Pin and think about how important you are in people’s lives; you are the pin upon which matters turn or depend.
Glynnda
(Grand-daughter of Elias Die)
