I am an Iowan.  Today is Caucus Day here, and I’m excited about going – even in the depths of a sub-zero winter storm that has crippled much of the nation the last several days.  Yes, there are many obstacles trying to dissuade me from venturing out, not the least of which is a very stubborn and cantankerous garage door!  But, I am an Iowan, and I WILL GET THERE!

Why such determination, you might wonder?  Because I love my country, and I fear for its decline.  I watch news broadcasts of illegal immigrants flooding across our borders, most without any vetting and many with undesirable backgrounds and hostile intentions toward our citizens.  I follow investigations of our highest national leaders being accused of despicable crimes against the laws of our country.  I watch loved ones’ life savings dwindle from the “comfortable” zone to levels of deep concern.

And, I pray.  I am confident that God is still in control of every detail of life in this world.  He, too, sees the movement of millions of people from other governments into our nation.  He knows the moral decay I distress over.  He knows the financial worries so many have now.  He knows, yet He still covets our prayers for even the smallest things that weigh us down.  He wants us to trust Him, to believe that He will turn our current distress into understanding that He is with us every moment and will use even our toughest situations for our good.

So, I keep watching, I pray, and I go vote!

When our children were young, we tried to make an annual trip to an amusement park. Family finances were tight back then, and the trip was a real sacrifice for us parents. Still, we wanted to make it happen as often as we could.

One summer there had been much hype about a new attraction at the park where we were going. The virtual reality space was becoming so popular that it boasted an hour-long wait time for would be visitors. Our amusement park days were invariably either very hot or very wet. That particular day was very hot.

When we finally had inched our way out of the heat and into the entrance to the attraction, we found places to stand where we all could easily see the huge overhead screen. After capacity had been reached and the entrance door closed, we were immediately bombarded with scenes that virtually took us free-falling down mountain cliffs or barreling around curves in an out-of-control train. It was ten minutes filled with non-stop stomach-churning action.

Before the first “experience” was barely started, our oldest child pulled my arm to get me down to his level and shouted in my ear, “I don’t want to ride this ride!” No one else could hear him — the filmed chaos playing out on the screen in front of us was so loud! We had been told that the exit doors were for emergencies only, so my husband and I felt trapped and we helped our son keep his back to the scenes flashing in front of us.

Since then, whenever someone in our family is facing something unpleasant, they repeat the line from the amusement park: I DON’T WANT TO RIDE THIS RIDE! Today as I write this, our family is up against a very difficult situation. When I woke this morning and considered what the day might bring, my first thought was, “I don’t want to ride this ride!”

Then I took the time to pray and begged God for the grace and patience to work through whatever might be ahead of me. One hour at a time, one minute at a time. One prayer at a time.

This past weekend I spent several hours with some very successful authors who shared insight into the craft of writing. The online conference, “Resonant Themes Summit,” was offered by Story Embers, a group whose goal is to guide and encourage Christian storytellers. The summit included topics such as “Crafting a Deeply Moving Theme,” “Essential Components of a Protagonist Character Arc,” and a “Panel Discussion on Tricky and Sensitive Topics.” To any Christian writers out there who entertain themselves fashioning stories, I would highly encourage you to look into the Story Embers services.

Each of the twelve sessions showcased published Christian authors who very clearly spoke to the topic they were assigned. I found myself eagerly waiting for the next session to begin, all while still mulling over the content of the session just completed. I have several pages of notes to help me more fully digest the information that was given by all the speakers.

The most exciting part of the summit? Two of my granddaughters also enrolled in the conference! These two girls have enjoyed playing with words for as long as I can remember. Every once in a while, one of them shares with me a short story she has written. What an honor it is to be one who is entrusted with a little part of their souls as they reduce their awesome imaginations to words on paper!

My husband and I spend nearly every evening at a small nursing home just a block from our house. Both of our mothers are residents there now. The two ladies have much in common: one woman’s child married the other woman’s child, twice! Brother and sister married sister and brother. Think about that for a minute! The two women and their husbands built a community church together and financially upheld it until it grew to support itself through their giving as well as many other families’ giving. The two women and their families took summer vacations to the Colorado mountains together. When their children left home, the two couples still vacationed to Colorado together!

One mother suffers from dementia. The other mother fell and broke her hip and has needed assistance with daily living since then. The nursing home is aware of their history and kindly seat the two women together during free time. One of the staff noticed that the women often hold hands, and she put together a sweet Facebook post about the value of friendship.

During our evening visits with our moms, one of them almost invariably tells us, “I’m ready to go home.” Other listening ears might interpret the comment differently than my husband and I understand it. Those women are not meaning that they want to return to their “home” at a certain street address. They want to go Home — to Heaven!

They are both weary of life, one age 89 and the other age 85. They have served their Lord for many years and know He is faithful to provide for them. But they both also have loved ones waiting to greet them in Heaven, and they long to join them! We sometimes are tempted to feel sad when our moms express their desire to “go home,” but how can we cling to them here when we know the joy they will experience when their bodies and minds are made whole again and they are greeted by their precious Savior?

I have a niece who lives in Ukraine.  She first went there as a college student on short-term mission trips to help in orphanages.  She fell in love with the children and the country and chose to return to Ukraine when she completed college.  It wasn’t long before she met and married a Ukrainian native, and they now have four children.  Their home is near Rivne in the northwest section of the country.

Like many Ukrainians, Laura and her husband hoped not to need to flee their country when the Russian invasion began.  Rivne was relatively distanced from the early fighting.  As the war escalated, they found themselves facing the decision of fleeing or staying.  They finally decided to pack up their vehicles and escape to Romania.  When Laura posted on Facebook that they would be traveling the next day, we all waited and waited and waited for word that they had safely crossed the border.  Laura’s next post sharing that they did indeed cross the border to safety was received with relief for those of us who were praying; but it was uttered with an excruciating mix of guilt, fear and grief for Laura and her husband.  They were safe, but so many family members and friends remained behind.

If you are like me, you have daily watched the invasion unfold and witnessed the utter carnage Russia has inflicted upon the Ukrainians.  It is impossible to watch without wondering WHY the United States has not done more?  HOW can we allow a mad man to systematically destroy a country that did nothing to provoke this outrage?  WHEN will the execution of civilians reach the point where we say, “No more!”

There are seasons in life when our privilege of prayer is invoked more often than other times.  May this be one of those seasons when we are praying without ceasing, upholding the Ukrainians with pleas for comfort and peace within their souls. 

When I was a child, I was terrified of thunderstorms. My mother fed my terror by making a small pile of clothing, food and blankets at the foot of each of her children’s beds on nights when severe weather was expected. On the occasions when the weather deteriorated as predicted, we would all gather up our little bundles and follow Mom and Dad to our basement to wait out the storm.

When I was in college, the town where I had an apartment was the target of a serious tornado. I had been similarly trained to fear tornadoes, so I spent the night during the bad weather in my bathroom fully expecting to be blown to a never-never land that would have a yellow-brick road to lead me back home. That didn’t happen, and that experience might have lead to my fascination now with storms.

Now when my cell phone rings with an automated warning of severe weather, instead of retreating to our crawlspace, I take my camera out to our covered front porch and sit on the swing and watch the clouds twist and contort as the wind pushes them along. I enjoy the rain-fresh smell in the air. I watch the tree limbs bend in the wind and wonder how they keep from breaking off. The roll of thunder is no longer a sound that sends chills down my back. Rather, it is an invitation to pull up a seat and witness God’s power on display in the skies.

Today was a hot and muggy June day – just the kind of day we thought we wanted back in May when the temperatures were unseasonably cold. While my mom and I were driving home from a medical appointment, she noticed thunderheads forming in the western sky. I could almost feel her stomach knotting up in apprehension. After we pulled into the parking lot at her assisted living unit, I suggested that we sit outside a few minutes and just watch the storm. She declined the opportunity, just as I expected. So, I came home and settled down in my porch rocker and let the broiling sky entertain me.

God has created such an incredible world for us to enjoy!

I have wanted to write ever since I was a child. When I was a young teenager, I remember seeing an advertisement in a magazine calling for would-be authors to submit a sample of their writing for evaluation. I set about to write a short piece, polish it, re-write and polish it again before sending it off to the address provided. There was no doubt in my mind that I had submitted a remarkable collection of profound words.

Several weeks later, a letter came in the mail from the company who had solicited the writing. I ripped open the envelope and read it line by line – several times. Although worded as graciously as possible, the gist of their response was this: Give yourself time to experience more of life – and THEN you will have something to write about! I was crushed and temporarily gave up my dream to be an author.

Now several years later, I can appreciate the value of the opportunities I have had to experience “life.” There have been the grand adventures of falling in love, getting married, and having a family. But there have also been the life classes in the loss of loved ones, aging parents, frightening health situations, and struggles for my children that I cannot solve. Each of those “lessons” has broadened my compassion for others who have passed that way before me. Those lessons have also equipped me to develop characters shaped by experiences similar to my own. I have something to write about!

“For this child I have prayed, and the Lord has granted me the desires of my heart.”      (I Samuel 1:27)

There have been moments before in my life when God has answered my prayers in miraculous ways, so that there is simply no denying that He was always in control of the situations. The only possible response from me is utter thankfulness and a greater understanding of God’s loving care for me.

One of our grandsons has been “ours” for almost six years, but legally he was only the child of our son’s wife. We first met him when he was three months old, and he immediately wiggled his way into our hearts! He has been part of all our family events for so long that the legality of his standing with our family had become a non-issue. In our hearts, our son was the little boy’s daddy and we were his grandma and grandpa!

My husband and I have been petitioning God for years to work out the details for Jeremiah’s legal adoption into our family. The biological father has never been involved in his son’s life, but he had refused to sign documents to allow the adoption. We received word yesterday that those documents have been signed! The joy we are feeling defies words. We can only echo Hannah’s prayer, “For this child I have prayed, and the Lord has granted me the desires of my heart.”

The weather in southern Iowa has turned cold overnight! The political ads have finally ceased, and the televisions are now blasting us with commercialized Christmas. Wasn’t there once a special day called Thanksgiving? Has it been discounted as no longer relevant to our “I want it all for me” society?

There was a post on Facebook today offering a pledge that might be appropriate. The pledge was this, “I will not shop on Thanksgiving Day.” The post further suggested that Thanksgiving Day is for families, for gathering together with the people who have given meaning to our lives and for considering all the blessings we enjoy day by day.

Think about some of the traditional “things” for which we claim to be thankful:

1. Our family. Yes, those very people who, according to our complaints, frustrate us, ask too much of us, don’t appreciate us enough, and otherwise just disappoint us. Would anyone guess how important those people are to us by what they hear us say?
2. Our church. That place where we know we should be more often than we are!
3. Our health. Yet we do not have the gumption to eat less and exercise more.
4. Our job. That institution that robs us of our time in exchange for enough money to pay our bills.

So, what is the point of Thanksgiving? It is a day that gently reminds us to rethink our attitudes. We can choose to be thankful for families who are close enough to share the little moments of everyday life. We can rethink the importance of God in our daily life and recommit to holding the church high on our priority list. We can resolve to protect our health by doing that walk, putting down that soda, or getting the rest that would make our days go smoother. And we can re-evaluate the dissatisfactions that drag us down every day while we are “making a living.”

The state of thankfulness is a choice. We can choose to grumble about all the things that disappoint us, or we can choose to delight in all the blessings God has given us.