4TH OF JULY, A LETTER 

Dear Dad:

In our great nation of 50 states–America–we will celebrate 250 years of “freedom”, commemorating the American War of Independence many years ago in pursuit of being released from British rule. It seems being taxed heavily without having a ‘voice’ regarding its revenue rubbed early inhabitants of our beautiful country the wrong way. Many hard and gruesome battles were waged, yet strong and determined men–many of them mere teenagers–fought valiantly and in harsh conditions to gain victory for a passion woven by deep threads of unity in their hearts, minds, and souls. Much has changed in a young country established as a sovereign nation who founded herself with a Declaration of Independence penned by a committee of five men and later signed by 56. Thus, America was birthed and began further growth and establishment among great nations of the world at that time … .and much has changed.

Today, I’m imagining writing a letter to my dad whose been gone since 2012. At age 90 he lived through his own hard years, the Depression Era, World War II and the Korean Conflict. Either of those events could have claimed his life. Thankfully he escaped severe sickness and even death. Reflecting on his life–and the life of America–has me wondering the depth of conversation we’d have regarding his experiences in America compared to these mere past 13 years he’s been gone, where admittedly, indeed much has changed and in full disclosure–not everything has been in a positive direction.

As July 4 rolls around for the 250th time since the first celebration of being severed from British rule, although parades and fireworks abound from coast to coast, is it possible that hot dogs in backyard barbeques, sparklers in the waving hands of children, businesses open as usual on this grand holiday detract from the significance of this day that I believe was a miracle in the making? 56 men embraced being courageous by signing a document that resulted in them being designated as “treasonists” by the British Crown,  with most of them ending up living in poverty from having their property and estates destroyed during the conflict.

Dad, I fondly remember how you loved singing all the great patriotic songs that have been composed about America. “America the Beautiful” was one of your favorites. I remember being taught this song in grade school, too. This and songs like it were a major part of our music curriculum. Until today, I did not know it was originally a poem written in 1893 by Kathleen Lee Bates after she had taken a trip to Colorado and had climbed Pikes Peak. Imagine her awe and wonder as she gazed across such beauty. Thankfully, her verses tell us of the majesty and beauty captured by her eyes. Sadly, dad, I’m not sure these patriotic songs are being taught in music classes now. 

And how about our national anthem, dad? Written in 1812 by Francis Scott Key as a poem after his witness of a 25 hour bombardment against Fort McHenry by the British, he saw our flag still flying amidst the ashes of battle. It’s a song that has been sung with many variations at all kinds of events, remains revered by most Americans, yet within a few recent years, deeply disrespected as though honoring the legacy of America’s history outweighs freedoms July 4th ushered in for all fortunate to be alive….Sadly, dad, I’m not sure our children know all the words to our anthem.

I can still see you when your hand was placed over your heart when the anthem was part of an important event. In addition, there’s memories of learning the Pledge of Allegiance that I recited every morning in grade school. By junior high this practice disappeared. Until today, dad, I didn’t recall that the pledge we now recite originated in 1892, composed by a Baptist minister, Francis Bellamy.  Go figure, dad, a ‘man of the cloth’, who was trained and educated to serve one God and one kingdom, penned words in support of being in full support of America. The pledge had a few revisions to it, and in 1954 President Dwight Eisenhower encouraged Congress to include “under God” in the wording. Wow, dad, I was one year old when he did that. Now, at age 72, I wonder if all our school children are being taught the pledge let alone reciting it to jumpstart a new school day.

As you can see and read, I’d have a lot to talk to my dad about regarding July 4. By no means am I an adequate student of American history. Thank goodness for easy access to online research using internet resources to revisit topics and facts that have long escaped my memory from all teachers tasked with instructing me on American history, leaning heavily on emphasising tremendous dangers and sacrifices by brave men and women to give us a great nation–not perfect by any means–yet still a country that people from other parts of the world still want to come for a chance to thrive and live in a style of “freedom” that once was foreign to many and now at great cost by those who take advantage of its benefits.

But, dad, as much as you and our family enjoyed many 4th of July celebrations together, there is but one kind of “freedom” that overshadows that which was gained by over 25,000 American deaths. With One death, about 2,000 years ago, One man crucified on a cross, gave His life with shedding of blood that dripped down a beaten and tortured body, so that mankind could be “free” from sin’s penalty. He didn’t choose to enter the battle. He did so under great pain of obedience. He accomplished a promise and new covenant spoken by His Father. 

Thousands of hymns and songs have been written honoring His accomplishment. For many years churches, schools, universities, military choirs have sung these great compositions. Sadly, dad, our halls of great learning are becoming a different kind of quiet as the secular approach to instruction has pushed God out of daily instruction. Is it possible, dad, that our “one nation under God” can prevail? I wish you were here to encourage me that it can, if we were to humble ourselves before Almighty God and seek Him rather than the desires of our own selfish motives, we stand a chance of prevailing.

Dad, thank you, for teaching me about being a patriot, loving an imperfect country, but above all, surrendering my life to an ALL PERFECT God, the One Who had His eyes on brave men and women 250 years ago….the One Who watched as His Only Son carried out your plan of salvation for mankind. Even when I don’t understand what I see and hear in today’s headlines regarding America, I still have hope. Even when I don’t comprehend what I perceive as God’s silence in all of our struggles, I am grateful for my freedom…first and foremost that which comes from God…and secondly from a 250 year old concept birthed in the minds of brave men and women.

Dad, part of me longs for my childhood days when I sat on your lap, ears covered, to be shielded from the loud fireworks display we enjoyed as a family. Now, I long for the day we will be united in heaven where we will sing worship songs together, honoring Christ. Hopefully we’ll get to belt out a rendition of “America the Beautiful”, too. Somehow I don’t think God will mind…

SAWDUST MEMORIES

Ah, the arrival of hot sticky summer days and evenings is one of those changes in Michigan seasons that awaken more memories from my childhood. Dad arrived home from work promptly at 5:15 pm and the five of us sat down to supper no later than 5:30. There was no central air conditioning in the house, mom moved a floor fan from room to room to help cool her daily tasks. On extremely hot days we often ate our evening meal in the breezeway which afforded some relief from heat. After eating, most nights you’d find my dad out in the garage working on some “project”. That was his workspace for power tools and more importantly, an escape from any stresses that built up during his work day as the chief building inspector for the City of Saginaw.

With the garage door open, table saw or other smaller power tool humming along, his quiet constant whistle accompanied whatever buzzing sound came from his variety of woodworking tools. The openness of the garage allowed him to see any of numerous kids riding by on bikes, others out for a walk around the block, neighbors mowing lawns. Sometimes one of the youngsters would pop in to say hello to him, ask some silly questions and bounce along, returning to their bike or walk. On one particular evening dad’s work was interrupted by a pair of young men out canvassing for their church. The question they posed to my dad was “do you think God has ‘anything’ to do with what’s going on in the world?”

Dad was quick on his feet, always. Whether a person needed some spontaneous wit or a word of encouragement, he was your man. Therefore, there was no long hesitation to give these guys an answer. “Anything?”, dad repeated. “Well, He has “everything” to do with our world.”  I remember their awkward long pause. Apparently their cheat card didn’t tell them how to respond to such a simple statement.

Maybe you’ve pondered the same query that “anything” and “everything” pose to us regarding God’s role in the world. This conversation my dad had took place in the 60s and by then I was finishing my junior high school years, old enough to see for myself all the changes taking place in our nation such as:

  • 1964 Civil Rights Act Passed
  • 1964 Beatles Arrive on the Scene
  • 1968 Martin Luther King Assassinated
  • 1969 Moon Landing & Woodstock Festival make headlines
  • Viet Nam War Rages

From my own viewpoint, every daily headline in the Saginaw News was of great significance. Indeed, the 60s brought about a lot of change, yet nothing then or now came as a surprise to God. Not once has He ever wrung His hands and whispered “well, I didn’t see that coming”. 

Paul writes in Colossians 1: 16 “For in Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” Who is Paul writing about here? That person is Jesus Christ.

Whether we are contemplating nature, other countries, kings and presidents, other people groups, Jesus is part of it all. Those things we see and cannot see, He’s in it. Those rulers and presidents you dislike? He’s over them, too. And though circumstances might look very chaotic? He’s actually holding them together. I take great comfort in that fact as I have given too much energy scratching my head or wringing my hands with deep worry regarding current events in our country.

I need to remember the soft comforting sound of my dad’s whistle as he putzed in the garage. Working with his hands gave him an outlet to express his artistic side while relieving stress. Anytime I smell clean sawdust, I can see him cutting boards, sweeping the garage floor before closing the door and retiring for the evening. By the 60s, dad had lived and served through World War II and later the Korean Conflict. His government had sent him around the world facing some horrible times before peace came and he returned home safely. It’d be years before he shared some of his experiences that could have ended his life.

Yes, a pleasant soft whistle. Hot summer evenings. Open air flowing through the garage. An occasional visitor to interrupt his time, always welcomed with a warm smile and kind truthful answers to life’s serious questions. Because life can be hard, but with God in it all, everything is good and running according to plan

PERSPECTIVE, WHAT’S YOUR VIEW?

Perspective. A mental view or outlook.

Recently my husband and I attended the funeral for one of my oldest cousins who passed away at the age of 88. Otto was born and raised in Millington and remained in that community his entire life, worked a variety of jobs and enjoyed many hobbies. His funeral was held in the church he attended all his life, St. Paul Lutheran and he was buried in the church’s cemetery nearby. Since we were in that area which is very close to Otter Lake, the last home where my grandparents lived, we took time to drive past the house where many childhood memories were created on Sunday afternoon visits. In contrast to living in the city, their country home offered trees to climb, berry bushes to pick ripened fruit, chickens to feed, kittens to cuddle, endless outdoor games playing with cousins. 

Driving past the house evoked all those memories, but they got tangled up in the disappointment of its present day condition. Gone are the fruit trees. The front yard is overgrown now with shrubs and tall grass. Old cars and a broken down travel trailer made for a sadly adorned front lawn. The lone garage door is crooked on its tracks. A house once teeming with energy and laughter, both wrapped in tremendous love and joy, is gone. And, a reality I had held on to for many years was also gone. As a child, I had always told people “how far back off the road the house sat”. Now, as an adult, I recognized that perception was not true. The house is much closer to the road than I originally thought. My ability to judge distance was skewed by childish measurements along with my grandparents admonishing us kids to never play near the road which stemmed from a tragic accident in the 40s which claimed the life of an older cousin.

So, my recent visit to their last home is giving me a good lesson on perspective.

Things are not always as they appear and life has many opportunities from which to learn and grow. Therefore, I made a quick investigation into scripture to see if God has anything to offer us regarding perspective. No surprise here, He does.

I found three very good takeaways. First, perceiving how we can view life. Proverbs 3: 5-6 says “ Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight”. Our commands given here are to “trust”, “lean not”, “submit”. The benefit of doing so is a “straight path”.

Secondly, a good perspective in life when we face trials and suffering comes from James 1: 2-4. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything”. It would never be my intention to underplay anyone’s suffering; I’ve had my share of trials and hardships. Life is hard at times and some experiences–those that are most painful– are beyond our control. How we respond comes from the ability to stand firm or cave to pressures. Once again, I think back to my Grandma Jewell whose last months of life were under the care of a nursing home as her body battled bone cancer. Often, in deep pain, she could hear other residents crying under the weight of their own suffering, and from the depths of her compassion for others, instruct the nurses to care for others first over her own needs or ask “do they know Jesus….” so she could pray for comfort and salvation.

Lastly, perspective points to thoughts of eternity. Colossians 3 1-2 describes it this way: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” Once I came to fully understand the concept that Paul writes about here, it allowed me to coin a phrase I’ve often used to weigh the heaviness of situations. “In the light of eternity, will ‘this’ matter?” That simple question has saved me from many worrisome nights or agonizing over things out of my control. 

So, even though I feel sad regarding the disarray of my grandparents’ home in Otter Lake, I’m thankful for 14 years of memories with every Sunday visit, meals at their table prepared by a grandmother who cooked and baked during the week anticipating several of her children’s families to be at her table and spill into the living room of their modest home. I’m grateful for her example when facing death, for she had learned at a very young age to adopt the wisdom of Proverbs commands. Grandma Jewell trusted, she leaned on God during everything in life, and she accepted the path God laid down for her. Her path had sorrows, pain, and a fair share of disappointments I’m sure,  but true to her nature, she spoke mostly of life’s joys and hope, her hope in Jesus…and always with a twinkle in her eyes.

I think she’d be very sad to see, now, how her modest home in Otter Lake has become compared to the vibrant years she and Gramp tended to. Yet, more importantly, she’d wonder about the people living inside its concrete walls  and ask, “do they know Jesus?” 

ARE YOU AN ENCOURAGER?

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”     (Leo Buscaglia)  

Leo was an American author and motivational speaker  and a professor known as “Dr. Love” based on his teachings about love, human connection and personal growth.  When I thought about what to write about this week, the concept of being kind and an encourager crossed my mind as I finished my last cup of coffee, gazing out my window as snowflakes debated whether to continue falling from gray clouds or retreat for a while. Kindness and encouragement have always been important to me–though admittedly I certainly have my share of awful behavior–yet, at the core of my being is a desire to love well, compliment and acknowledge the goodness of people I meet, to cheer on family members who, like me, are doing their best every day to achieve dreams, goals, live life through its ups and downs.

Looking back on the last few months, I’m able to see that I’ve got friends who are going through some very hard stuff such as grief from the loss of a child, another with a spouse experiencing unexpected physical ailments which required a few days in a hospital as well as those eking out a living to care for growing children, making ends meet with the resources available to them. 

As always–even though I like what Mr. Buscaglia said–I ask myself “what does the bible have to say about….fill in the blank. So, what does the bible have to say about being an encourager. Thankfully, a lot.

In 1 Thessalonians 5: 11: “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”

Proverbs 16: 24  “Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” 

Let your speech be helpful, building others up as needed.”  (Ephesians 4:29).

Those are but three scriptures to describe how we should conduct ourselves regarding kindness, encouragement, and love. There’s plenty more, which makes me believe that God wanted us to know His heart through these words.

Does it take a lot of time or energy to be kind? Goodness, no. But it does take intentionality, even humility. Do you thank the person who bagged your large grocery order?  Do you say “thank you” to someone who held a door open for you? (which by the way is a great gesture to teach young children) If you’re a man, do you open the car door for your wife? (mine does) and he still insists on walking by the curbside of the sidewalk, a form of protection gentlemen assumed years ago when escorting a woman on dirty and dangerous streets. 

I could write a lot about encouragement and kindness. Lord, knows many of us need a review–even lessons–on what I assume to be common sense. Sadly, common sense is sometimes a rarity in our current culture no matter a person’s standing in society. Proof of the matter is found in countless social media posts and reels, media headlines, commentaries from the very people we rely upon for local, national, and world news.  Yet, much of the rhetoric we are bombarded with on a daily basis is out of our control, for in reality none of us can truly change the persona or actions of another person, but we CAN change our own attitudes, choice of language whether spoken or written, and above all–how we treat other people regardless of their role in workplaces, our churches, the places we shop or go for entertainment, and most crucially– in the center of our family homes.

I “encourage” you this week–and in weeks ahead–to find ways to compliment someone, to say “thank you” for what may appear as merely being a common small task, to offer a smile to a stranger sitting across from you in a waiting room. Look for a child who needs an extra bit of courage, catch a kid doing something kind and tell them “way to go!”

What will happen?  You’ll feel like you’re a better person from  a small moment of kindness that brought light into someone’s dark day. Like Leo said, you “may turn a life around”….you’ll become more and more like Jesus who is the author of perfect love, kindness, and encouragement in its purest form!

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations”. (Jeremiah 1:5)

“For He chose us in Him before the world to be holy and blameless in His sight.” (Ephesians 1:4)

Two very profound statements about a person’s importance in God’s eyes are contained in these two verses. There’s plenty of others in both the Old and New Testaments that describe how God views and cherishes us as well as giving us purpose and value that stand out from things that perish. In my current study time which is camped out in 1 Peter I’m learning that because of my relationship with Christ I have an inheritance that “can never perish, spoil or fade.” Furthermore, my salvation cannot be destroyed; it was purchased (redeemed!) by the imperishable Christ’s blood shed on a cross. Talk about a WOW factor!

Today, my typical day to sit and write is Wednesday. It also happens to be my 72nd birthday. I honestly have a hard time assigning a larger number to my life with each passing birthday because even with a few aches and pains, reduction in complete flexibility of limbs at times my mind still thinks like a young adult. Celebrating another year of life–which is a true gift–also allows me to reflect back on my life. Many memories flood back, mostly very wonderful, others bittersweet.

Born as the last of three children to my parents, coming home to two older brothers, I rounded out the family they had dreamed of creating in the aftermath of World War II and the Korean Conflict which saw dad serving in the U.S. Navy. After living in their first house, land was purchased where dad built the family home I grew up in and upon completion in 1954 I took my first steps as a toddler.

My entry into our world was a whirlwind. I still smile as I remember hearing how mom told dad “it’s time…” and he didn’t fully believe her. His hesitancy to drive her to Saginaw General Hospital resulted in my arrival 13 minutes after getting there. It’s a screenplay my mom didn’t enjoy watching or experiencing over and over again but she wasn’t mean spirited about my birth event, merely sharing the reality she endured of a hard fast delivery!

My birthday–though very much a joyful event–was also bathed in sadness. I dmy arrival with the departure of an older cousin who lost her battle to polio. This is a disease myself and many other parents have not had to fear because of wonderful medical breakthroughs which gave us a vaccine. Thankfully, my uncle and aunt, who lost their oldest daughter, embraced me with incredible love and their home became a favorite place to spend summer days playing with my other two cousins who came along after their sister’s death.

My life also causes me to reflect on my origins. When the 23and Me DNA testing came along as a way to discover one’s ancestral roots, I sent for the kit. I’ve always been curious about who I am and where I came from. Well, my DNA revealed no great surprises. I’m mostly Northern European with a little bit of Irish and French sprinkled in. The research showed my origin back to the Balkans as far as the 1600s. From there my long gone ancestors’ journeys will forever remain a mystery until hearing how mom’s parents came to America in the early 1900s, their past lives shrouded in many unknowns, too. Dad’s folks have been traced back to the 1700s with names written in the Jewell Family Bible. Woven in the mysteries of their lives is one important thread–the brilliant color of Christian faith which began “somewhere” and was adopted with each subsequent generation on both sides of my family.

The world has changed immensely since November 5, 1953 to the one of 2025 as I sit here. I admit what I see and hear coming from news outlets doesn’t give me much hope in mankind–but God! Our world is broken. It has been since Adam and Eve ate forbidden fruit. But, God in His mercy, had a plan in place before He laid the foundations of the earth! We read in 1 Peter 1: 24 which quotes the prophet Isaiah: “All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever”.

One day I will join my loved ones in heaven who have gone before me. But, for now, I will celebrate being 72 and living life covered in great love and affection from my Creator, Who knew me before He created all that we know and call our “world”. I’ll try to wrap my mind around the mystical and imperishable ways of God…smiling about how I “arrived” here while rejoicing about “where I’m headed” as I continue living wrapped in God’s abundant promises!

A WAGON’S JOURNEY TO GREAT PURPOSE

Recently, I wrote about my dad’s childhood memory from the farm, where my grandpa didn’t throw anything away. In the 30s old and broken things weren’t tossed out, burned or trashed. No, the pile next to the barn was most likely an original “recycling” concept born out of necessity and never wasting anything “if” it could become part of something “new”. Dad and his brothers were allowed to glean what they needed to build sleds, skis, and wagons.

Today I’m smiling as I can still hear my dad’s voice describing to those fond memories from his childhood, crafting and building outside toys to enhance an otherwise poverty stricken life during the depression years. Now, as I look back on that experience of his, I can see how God used dad’s woodworking abilities during his more mature years to still craft and create wagons–only now he could well afford to use new materials–complete with well skilled talent honed from trial and error, along with good tools.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose”. 

This verse is used often to describe how the hardships of believers intertwine with God’s plan to bring good out of something bad. I’m one who certainly has adopted this explanation when seeking to understand complexities of life’s circumstances. Such was the case when years ago my mother underwent major surgery for cancer, which at that time necessitated a radical mastectomy.  On the day of her surgery I accompanied dad to the hospital. Lunchtime happened to roll around while she was still in recovery so we got on the elevator to go to the cafeteria. Conversation was limited. Quietness and concern filled the air as we rode down three floor levels. Our “car” stopped, the doors opened to allow other folks to join us. We had stopped at the pediatrics floor, where a young child was being transported in a very large bed, rails and pillows that seemed to overwhelm his small body.

We got to our lunch table. Dad broke our silence by saying “I can’t get that little guy in that big bed out of my head. Doesn’t seem very fun or comforting to be carted around in such a thing”. He had an idea. “Hey,” he said to me in almost the form of a question. “Let’s go back to that floor. I want to talk to a nurse”.

Now, with a sense of renewed purpose and hope, dad did speak to a nurse. He asked if he could donate a hand built wagon to be used to move the kids around the floor. “Absolutely!” 

We got back on the elevator to return to mom’s floor. The atmosphere between us had changed. Purpose, hope and generosity for others had replaced any heaviness our hearts had carried before lunchtime. Dad’s demeanor had changed. Quietly, he said to me, “I suppose it was no coincidence we stopped at the ped’s floor, for me to see how I could help kids have a little bit better time while in the hospital”.

“No”, I responded. “Dad, God knew those kids would love a wagon. And He knew who He could trust to provide one”.

You see, I don’t know how many “rough” wagons dad may have assembled in his young years on the family farm. I do know that in the 90’s when our son was a youngster, dad designed a wagon, actually got a patent for his design which is called “The Dan Wagon”, built one for our Daniel, and used those plans to assemble one for Covenant Hospital.

I don’t know if the hospital’s wagon is still being used or not. Our own “Dan Wagon” is worn looking from numerous trips down our driveway’s slight slope, just enough of an angle to delight its rider. I know that childhood attempts to make a useful toy from junkpile bounty later transformed into beautiful new creations using pristine materials.

And isn’t that what God does with us when we come to Him for salvation?  “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5: 17)  No matter the size of junk in our lives, or the depth of our sinful habits, true repentance creates something “new”, meaningful, and with great purpose!

Just like a small wood wagon with bright shiny tires and side rails to protect its occupant. All that is needed is that “SOMEONE” who has the ability to see a pile of junk and think to HIMSELF ….”Hmmm, wonder what I can fashion out of this and make it into something grand!”

YOU WANT ME TO LAUGH?

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones”. (Proverbs 17: 22)

Have you ever been around grumpy people? You know the ones…they aren’t happy unless complaining about something or someone else. It’s one thing to occasionally lament about a situation, but it’s entirely different to be surrounded by constant pessimism or a critical spirit. I prefer to be in the company of lighthearted individuals who can find joy in all circumstances, focus on silver linings in gray clouds, drinking from half full glasses versus seeing life as half empty. That’s why I love that God included this prescription for good health in the Old Testament Book of Proverbs–a cheerful heart is actually good for the human body.

In fact, Mayo Clinic has this information on their site regarding the benefits of laughter:

A good laugh has great short-term effects. When you start to laugh, it doesn’t just lighten your load mentally, it actually induces physical changes in your body. Laughter can:

  • Stimulate many organs. Laughter enhances your intake of oxygen-rich air, stimulates your heart, lungs and muscles, and increases the endorphins that are released by your brain.
  • Activate and relieve your stress response. A rollicking laugh fires up and then cools down your stress response, and it can increase and then decrease your heart rate and blood pressure. The result? A good, relaxed feeling.
  • Soothe tension. Laughter can also stimulate circulation and aid muscle relaxation, both of which can help reduce some of the physical symptoms of stress.

Often, I include stories and experiences from my dad’s family to illustrate a thought or serve as an example for living life. Once again, I cannot help but reflect on my Jewell relatives for more material this week. My dad’s parents were anything but wealthy their entire lives. Don’t get me wrong, they always seemed to have their needs met–sometimes in practicality–yet always as a result of God’s care. At least, that’s how I prefer to perceive it based on grandma’s prayer life. Their lives were wrapped in hard work, challenges of raising 11 children, merely trudging along. My grandmother loved a good clean joke and she always had a hint of sparkle in her eyes. My dad and his brothers all possessed a keen ability to spin a story with just enough truth to turn it into a clever yarn. Their humor was based in gentle teasing, stretching out their stories of boyhood antics with a bit of “added details”, and pranks that really never hurt anyone other than prideful egos.

So, when a few of us Jewell families were at my grandparents’ last home on Sunday afternoons, I often took a chunk of time to sit in the living room with dad and his brothers, listening to their “tales”. I heard about Rowan tying Buddy to a tree during recess, on the side the teacher couldn’t see from the classroom. There was their favorite, convincing a neighboring family of boys–the Dunham Brothers– that walking home in the dark through farmland and meadows was dangerous. They warned them that under a moonlit sky the “Hillgougers” would attack them. To make their story credible the Jewell boys actually hid behind trees one such night, and sure enough when their friends came strolling by from town, they jumped out to scare them and bellylaughed as they watched them run all the way home!, screaming “the Hillgougers, the Hillgougers!”

I’ll admit these childhood pranks might not be everyone’s cup of tea nowadays but I’m honestly not willing to back down from the reality that no one was hurt physically. Buddy was found in time to release him from the schoolyard tree and the Dunham boys remained friends with the Jewell guys until highschool graduations took everyone on their own path for careers or further education. These guys were able to survive childhood pranks and enjoyed a lot of reminiscing about their adventures for years to come! I think that serves as a lesson not to hold grudges, build resentments, or be unwilling to accept good natured teasing.

Truth be told, I think our homes, businesses, schools, and anywhere we gather as groups of people, could use a bit more lightheartedness and laughter. Sometimes I think some of us folks are a wee bit too serious or work too hard manipulating others to feel guilty for not always being stoic.  I’m not saying we need to tie up a friend on a tree or create imaginary spooky beings to scare others. Rather, let’s cultivate moments of laughter, kindness, and looking for positive things in each person and our interactions every day. And if we were to do so? Well, we just might create a nicer gentler atmosphere around ourselves, making it possible that others will want to enjoy our company versus living in avoidance because we are acting old, crabby, settling for life in a half empty glass when I believe God wants us to enjoy abundance and blessings!

Need a place to start finding more laughter? Get around some children. Turn on a good clean comedy. Pull up comedians on FaceBook or YouTube. A few of my favorites are Jeff Allen, Nate Bargatze, Michael Jr. and Robin Williams. These guys are funny, taking everyday life and spinning it to make laughter erupt easily, all the while doing so with ease and perfect delivery! The best part? You can sit in your living room or any other place using your Smartphone to soak in a bit of laughter and joy throughout the hours of the day!

TRAIN, TEACH, ENCOURAGE

“Train up a child in the way he should go (teaching him to seek God’s wisdom and will for his abilities and talents), Even when he is old he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22: 6)

This verse has often been used as encouragement within the walls of our churches to our parents struggling with prodigal children. The encourager’s intentions are not wrong, however, a deeper understanding what’s being said is as parents, when we get to know our children, how they’re wired, gifted, their talents, we can better direct them towards activities and proper academics to hone in on their particular “bent”–how they learn, what excites them and what brings utter lack of enthusiasm. 

Often, I draw on my father’s family for numerous life experiences that are the backdrop for examples or topics for my weekly writing. This week is no different. As I look back on each of my uncles and aunts lives, including my dad’s, I can truly note where their childhood experiences and talents took them in life.

My Aunt Joy was the second oldest. As she grew old enough to help grandma, quite often she helped care for the younger ones. Helping in the kitchen and chores with grandma were normal. It’s no wonder that as added income for her own family, she cared for several elderly women who actually lived with Joy in their large home. This was a “side gig” she did even after Uncle Ed had passed away. Joy was loving, compassionate, kind, and very patient dealing with aging minds and weary bodies.

Lyle was 17, working in one of the farm fields, when a small plane flew overhead. This disruption in his duties distracted him long enough to pause, looking up as he shielded his eyes to watch this “marvelous machine” pass over the family farm. “One day I’m going to fly, too”, he said. And fly he did. Lyle served in the Air Force as a pilot, retiring as a Colonel. 

Grandpa had a pile of what we’d call common “junk” nowadays. Worn out wood, metal scraps, odd and ends from farm materials, and discarded wheels in a variety of sizes were piled next to the barn. If the boys wanted a sled, well they made one. In summer months they longed for a wagon, so one of them figured out how to fashion one from the pile. Nothing went to waste in the depression years. Access to materials–old or fairly new–was the drafting table for all kinds of things to enhance childhood years. I don’t know the quality of the things the boys made but I do know that all of them had a love and great ability to build anything from a wagon, pair of snow skis, to furniture and homes.

My four aunts inherited grandma’s sewing abilities. Lots of clothing, and later on, numerous quilts were constructed by careful hands and an eye for design. Reading was a favorite pastime as there was no TV or radio in the home. My Aunt Esther was the only girl to graduate college and taught elementary age children until retiring. She had a passion to learn which overlapped with a deep desire to teach.

So, with the start of another school year, it’s my hope that our young parents–our guardians, our grandparents, will embrace how God has created our “littles” as unique individuals. Not every child will excel on an athletic field. Reading may be boring to some while others will tuck themselves into a corner to bury their nose in a books pages. Drawing and creating works of art from raw materials will soothe and fill the child whose creative mind is chomping to test and explore the beauty of color. Create a stack of small musical instruments and watch who will wander over and pick one up to test what kind of sound it makes. 

 The worst thing I think we as parents can do is forcing our child to do and be what goes against their natural inclinations. A great book I read years ago is “Eight Great Smarts: Develop & Nurture Your Child’s Intelligences” (available on Amazon) Each chapter is a short read and helps identify each way a child has been created to learn. And, each chapter will give you guidance on how to develop the hidden stuff in your child!

My Aunt Esther, the avid reader of the girls, preferred books over household chores. Pulling her away from a book to help in the kitchen was a disruption to where exciting novels and non-fiction materials could take her young mind. She was also bold and not afraid to climb trees. She even climbed a water tower in one of the small towns the family lived in for a stretch of time. She had a keen ability to memorize children’s storybooks and often acted them out with silly props for her young students. Her favorites were any of the Dr. Suess storybooks. 

It’s a new school year, from kindergarten to college courses and even trade schools or military enlistments! No matter the age, no matter the path of education, let’s all work together to train, guide and encourage our children along their unique avenues of learning. And let us not forget our wonderful teachers, these men and women who are challenged with 20 plus kids every day, who learn differently. Some will be daydreamers. Others will stay on task. Some will be anxious to get outside to run, jump, play, and climb. There will be those who are content to sit on the sidelines and merely watch, while contemplating what’s next in their day. All of their differences combined which cause minds and bodies to be going in numerous directions are not bad, merely different. Different is not bad. May we embrace “different” and properly fuel busy little people and our young adults, too.

Blessings on a new school year! I’m thankful for teachers who encouraged me to read, helped me get through math that made no sense…brought out my love for vocal music…honed my skills that lead to a passion for writing…my dad who drove me to the library week after week for a new stack of books. Now, I still have stacks of books in different rooms of our home, waiting to be picked up to be devoured, filling my mind with new information! Guess I better buckle down and join all the students who have returned to classrooms!

PEACE & JOY EXIST INSIDE YOU

“Peace and joy exist right there within you–all the time–even when you are in the midst of difficult circumstances. And whether you can access them is not dependent upon your moods or your reactions to external circumstances. And, this gift of joy takes a bit of practice to receive. It takes intention. It takes desire. It takes faith.” (source Gather Ministries)

This paragraph is from a devotional I used during part of my sabbatical. Titled “Reaching for Joy” this excerpt truly defines for me an ability to experience joy in all that life gives, whether moments of extreme highs or depths of lowliness. I like that the writer says “this gift of joy takes practice to receive” affirming that when hard stuff comes along there IS a way to reach the other side of feeling devastated, alone, or having no hope.

I’m a people person. Sometimes that characteristic has driven my family nuts. When our son was a youngster he actually asked me “do you have to talk to people wherever we go?” Yes. Yes, I do. I am an extrovert who is fueled by meeting and conversing with people whether strangers, family, or friends.

So, naturally, when I went north for several days alone during my sabbatical, I literally asked God to allow me to meet people, to place folks on my path for divine appointments or mere conversation. And, He’s so faithful. He comes through every time I ask this request.

One evening north I was able to enjoy an early dinner with a niece that we don’t see often through the year due to distance. She actually lives south of Traverse City. She chose a restaurant near where I was staying and our evening started out great as we began to catch up on life over a drink. Soon, the restaurant filled with “locals” (we found out later that that Thursday was their reopening for a new summer season for vacationers on Torch Lake. Couples and families stood near the entrance waiting for an empty table. We were at a six top and as we were finishing our salads, a woman approached asking if they could join us–herself and a married couple–all about my age. “Sure!” we said. That’s how we met Murray, Patty, and Theresa. Over the next hour or so three strangers asked questions, listened and laughed over shared experiences. 

As is often the case, the questions turned to “what do you do?” Ashley shared about being a doctor on staff at Munson Medical in their physical therapy department. I replied that I was active in lay ministry for Celebrate Recovery. They all marveled over our “work” but it was Theresa who leaned in closer so-to-speak taking our new connection to a deeper more personal level.

Without much hesitation she told us that she understood the 12 steps of recovery very well. I had explained to her that not everyone who attends Celebrate Recovery is an addict, that I had entered the program to deal with anger and eventually my own sugar addiction. Theresa immediately latched on to understanding anger. To my astonishment she relayed details surrounding the death of her young adult son, actually describing the incident as an unsolved murder. If that loss wasn’t enough to endure, she’s also a widow. As I listened to her I didn’t detect bitterness, deep seeded anger or lack of hope. On the contrary, even while divulging a very personal difficult time in her life to me, her countenance remained peaceful and engaged in “life”. 

Also stemming from her conversation came celebrating Patty’s 20 year cancer remission, joined by Theresa declaring her own 10 year remission from cancer…all of which we gladly raised our glasses in a toast to God’s goodness and renewed health.

As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. Remain in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will remain in My love, just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and remain in His love. I have told you these things so that My joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. (John 15: 9-11)

Imagine my pleasure meeting and spending time with three people who at first were complete strangers asking for a place at our restaurant table. Further imagine my delight getting to know them, devouring our moments together, fully realizing we will most likely never cross paths again. And, before you think I’m saying it’s easier said than done to triumph over horrific events in life, nothing could be further than the truth. Life is hard. Life can be very unfair. It certainly was for Theresa but that’s not the woman I met. I became acquainted with someone who lived through her circumstances and is now on the “other side”, abiding in God’s love and promises for her.

I love that in the midst of my time with Murry, Patty, and Theresa–along with my niece–that I remarked to her “isn’t it fun to share a table with people you don’t know” and her response will always echo in my memories ….”yes–! And we’ll keep making the table bigger so more people can join us”.

Joy isn’t connected to worldly circumstances. True joy is rooted in the deeper reality of God’s goodness. (Gather Ministries, Reaching for Joy Devotional)

My advice to you? My challenge to you? Next time you’ve got empty chairs at your dining table, invite someone to join you. Or, if you’re like Theresa, walk up to a few people and say “can we join you?”

I promise, something of God’s goodness will happen.

LIVING ROOM SOCIAL MEDIA

Ah, the blessings and curses that come with social media.

When Facebook surged above all other social media platforms, I joined a myriad of friends and family making use of this communication tool. I quickly connected with friends who live in different geographic locations…families spread out across Michigan and beyond to the west coast … .close friends…highschool classmates…individuals and groups that feed into my personal goals for understanding of scripture and ministry where I serve. The past years belonging to Facebook, and now Instagram along with X, have been heartwarming, intriguing, plus an occasional wringing of hands in frustration.

Reflecting on my experiences with social media, I could not help but remember Sunday afternoon visits with my grandparents. Following a delicious dinner, it never failed that I ran back and forth between the living room from playing outside, my grandpa seated among dad and his brothers, along with brothers-in-law were, discussing current events. My memories are totally foggy and I certainly don’t have recall for those conversations other than to remember they were quite lively, but never critical or mean spirited. Sources of topics were what they heard on the evening news, newspapers, radio, and magazines.

On one such visit, our family was the first to arrive on a Sunday and when we walked in the door my grandpa jumped up excitedly, waving an issue of Time magazine in my dad’s face, declaring “Jack, do you know what them Roo-sians are up to?” “Read this, Jack!” Before dad could react or respond, Gramp told dad word for word what was contained in the article.

Going back to my uncles. Within their career circle were two engineers, a car salesman, a laborer for General Motors, a self employed building contractor,  a minister and a colonel in the United States Air Force. My dad was employed in the building inspection department for the City of Saginaw in the 60s, the years of many family dinners and living room conversations. Grandpa’s working years spanned farming, logging, and in his later years, some small machine work. My Jewell “guys” certainly represented a variety of work skills which included a strong foundation of integrity. 

IF they had strong disagreements when discussing America’s woes in the 60s, it never was evident to me. What I heard and observed was a group of siblings having lively conversations. When I really leaned in to what they were talking about, I was happy to sit and listen when many “yarns” or stories from childhood dominated their lively banter,  many of which were repeated year after year and are now beloved memories from my childhood.

So, social media. As I’ve been a part of my “friendship circle” the posts have often gone from family photos or highlighted vacation moments to discussions of current matters in America. Admittedly, I have joined in all of these topics but having done so has not always been beneficial.

My observations boil down to things for me. One, there’s a lot of courage behind a keyboard evidenced by some very mean spirited posts. Secondly, I’m convinced social media is never going to serve as a beneficial or uplifting platform to discuss “hot topics”. Certainly, I enjoy reading a variety of opinions, while struggling with motives behind “jabs” or “disrespectful” words. Once again, of my own admission, I often got sucked into a “ping pong match of wits” with those who think differently than myself. Not anymore.

I made a conscious decision to keep my social media focused on family photos, special moments we’ve enjoyed as a family, connecting with family and friends, sharing encouragement from “my” source of all that is good–scripture.

My Jewell guys never solved any of America’s problems in the 60s. At most, they accomplished hearing the viewpoints of each other. No one ever left angry or “unfriended” one another. 

Yes, social media is now an outlet that illustrates our human nature ranging in behaviors from elation to anger. Missing is the ability to “hear” a tone of voice behind typed words, or the “heart” behind comments. Missing is the beauty of face-to-face conversations which allow differing angles to meet over closely held passions and stances without resulting in being cut off.

I can’t imagine any of my dad’s sibling relationships being severed due to thinking as an individual. In my grandparents’ small living room, in that small close knit circle of the Jewell men, there was love, acceptance, and always yielding to differing opinions.

I think those of us who use social media could learn a lesson or two from a circle of loving and goofy brothers. Who, when finished bantering away the afternoon, went out to the kitchen for another slab of pie or outside for a rousing game of horseshoes, brothers against brothers in fair play and healthy competition.

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. (Ephesians 4: 29)