Friday Tidings

When I was in high school, Dad took a college psychology course for a management role at work. One evening while I was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework, he showed me a picture in his textbook. It was a wooden carving of a man grimacing while holding his stomach. The chapter title: Repress Your Emotions and Your Stomach Keeps Score. Dad knew me well.   I’d been his anxious child from the time I figured out the world could be a scary place. I bottled up all that anxiousness and by the time I was in high school I had developed stomach ulcers. Some of my high school friends may recall my baby food diet. I dealt with my fears and worries by swallowing them. My stomach did keep score.   I eventually learned how to handle life’s anxious times in healthier ways. But when stomach pain revisited me recently, I wondered if I had reverted to my old ways.  I’m one who reads the daily news—maybe too much. When I add my concerns about the future for those I love, there’s plenty of aci

I snapped this photo of my husband and his sweet mother while we were driving together. I was sitting in the back listening as they reminisced. It was the same road they had traveled back in the day. We were out on an errand, but ended up enjoying the sights. I learned more about the boy I married and his loving family. They had worked hard and also worked through the tough things life brought their way. If you still have a parent or grandparent that you can pick up and take for a ride, I highly recommend it. They will give you nuggets of wisdom and a glimpse of their journey from a perspective that has seen more days than we have. Your journey was part of their journey too. No family close by? An elder in the community is special too—like Marie. We used to pick her up from her senior facility on our way to church. She always wore a smile and exclaimed that she was “happy as a clam in high tide.” I learned about her life as we took the same road week after week.  These are the dri

I drove past the sign, decided to pull over and take a picture. It’s how many of us feel. We have seen the horrific images from Ukraine, but we are so far from their war. Even though we have some troubles here at home, we’re still very blessed. This week I needed to find some old paperwork. I knew it was in the box marked 1980-1986. Seeing all the old check registers was a humble reminder of our meager finances as young farmers.  But as I sorted, I recalled a national incident that happened back then. I had just arrived at my bookstore job, when I heard there had been an assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan.  What I remember most about that day was what the president said as he was wheeled into surgery to have the bullet removed from his chest. President Reagan smiled weakly and quipped to the surgeons, “Please tell me you’re Republicans.” Taking President Reagan’s hand, the surgeon replied, “In here, we’re not Republicans or Democrats. We’re all Americans.”  That comment s

This abandoned church sits on a dusty county road. My ancestors were church members. Each Sunday, they’d hitch up their wagon, bundle up with blankets in the wintertime, and spend the morning in prayer, listen to a sermon, share a meal, and then head back home before the livestock needed tending. As I’ve been seeing all the prayer requests for Ukraine—I’ve thought about this old church and my ancestors who were such prayer warriors—for their new homeland, for their family, and for one another. Life wasn’t easy, but they had freedom.   This week Dr. Jim Denison shared how prayer changed the course of World War II. The King of England called the people to pray together seven different times.   Here’s what happened:   The first National Day of Prayer was called on March 27, 1940 when 350,000 British soldiers were trapped at Dunkirk. In the week following, the English Channel was incredibly calm, allowing thousands of private boats and yachts to cross over to Dunkirk and help rescue 3