FEBRUARY BIRTHDAYS

 

Grace with I believe Pudgy

Birthdays in February can be really special! It’s a month full of unique vibes, especially with Valentine’s Day making everything feel extra cozy and warm. Plus, for people born later in the month, there’s a bit of that post-holiday magic still lingering. Depending on where you live, you might have a winter birthday, which can feel a bit more intimate and cozy, with snow or chilly weather setting the mood for indoor celebrations, like movie nights or enjoying a warm meal with close friends and family. And also 4 of the Presidents of the United States were born in February-- George Washington, William Henry Harrison, Abraham Lincoln, and Ronald Reagan.

Our birthday celebrations as we were growing up began with Mother's birthday on February 16.  We didn't always hit the mark on parties or even the day.  But one year, when my next to the youngest brother Davy was 10, he wanted to do something special for Mother's birthday as she was suffering with post surgery pneumonia caused by a blood clot. Here is his story: 

"Yes:  I remember having a children's cookbook and wanted to make her a birthday cake.  The problem was that she was sick.  Mother had a surgical procedure to take out varicose veins in her legs.  After the surgery was done and she started recovery - a clot broke loose and after going through the heart it stuck in her lung.    The result was pneumonia.  She was stuck in bed at home.  I made a layer of cake, but it was only about an inch thick. As a result I spent most of the day baking six more layers. The plan then was to put a thin layer of jelly between cake layers.  The layers were sliding all over the place.  Just then a neighbor arrived (called by someone to "check on the kids") and found the problem.  She demonstrated how to save the day with a few hundred toothpicks.  After that the frosting went smoothly and with one candle we all went in to the bedroom singing Happy Birthday.  I set the cake on the platter on her chest and she struggled to blow out the candle. Years later she kept reminding me of that with a laugh."

It's the thought that counts, right? He did for Mother as he wished others to do for him.  

Matthew 7:12  “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

THE LEGACY OF INTEGRATION AT GROVETON HIGH SCHOOL

 

As a teenager, I couldn’t quite grasp the timeline of history. It was all a blur—names, dates, and events flying by without any clear connection. But now, decades later, I’ve lived long enough to witness and understand the profound changes that have shaped our society, and among those changes is the pivotal shift that took place with integration in the public schools.

My family moved to Virginia in 1952. Most of our ancestors were from Washington State.  We had grown up with the song "Jesus love the little children all the children of the world." So we were shocked when a little black friend wasn't allowed to join the Cub Scout troop at our church.  As a result we changed Cub Scout troops. 

And shortly after that one of the most significant moments of that era occurred at Groveton High School, where I was privileged to witness the power of integration firsthand. I remember the excitement, the nerves, and the change that came with the first black student entering our school—a moment that marked a turning point in our community’s history.

At that time, Groveton, like many other schools, was on the cusp of a new chapter, one that would contribute to the larger movement toward equality in our country. The first black student to attend Groveton was part of a broader push for integration, a wave that spread across schools nationwide after the historic Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954. The integration of schools was not just a legal change; it was a cultural shift that forced people to confront their biases, challenge their perceptions, and rebuild their communities around the ideals of equality and justice.

One of the most important figures during this time was Rayfield Barber, who courageously spoke out about the challenges and triumphs of being one of the first students to break the color barrier at Groveton High. Rayfield’s interview, which can be found on YouTube, provides a firsthand account of his experience, offering invaluable insight into the fears, hopes, and courage that shaped his journey. His resilience serves as a reminder that the path to equality has never been easy, but it is always worth walking.

But the story of integration extends beyond the classroom, touching the lives of people who, like George Washington, dreamed of building a better future. I found this story in World Magazine. George Washington, the son of a Virginia slave, is a poignant example of the dreams that people of African descent carried with them, even in the face of adversity. His life was defined by the pursuit of a “decent place,” a home and a community where he could live with dignity and hope. His legacy is woven into the fabric of the civil rights movement and continues to inspire those who strive to create a world in which everyone has a place at the table. Here is the link to the article.

As we reflect on the legacy of integration, we are reminded of the struggles and sacrifices of those who paved the way for us. Their courage, resilience, and unwavering commitment to justice laid the foundation for the progress we see today. And as we honor Black History, it’s important to acknowledge that the story of integration is not a past chapter—it’s an ongoing journey that continues to shape our schools, our communities, and our nation.

Jesus loves the little children

THE ROLE OF HEROES: UNDERSTANDING VENERATION VS WORSHIP

                                         

I certainly didn't live up to this--I'm no hero

With help from ChatGPT

I was shocked when I first learned about the mysterious death of Meriwether Lewis. As a hero of American history, I’d always admired him, much like many others. After all, he was one half of the legendary Lewis and Clark expedition—hired by President Thomas Jefferson to explore the vast, uncharted western portion of the country following the Louisiana Purchase. For many of us, Lewis represents the spirit of adventure, bravery, and determination that shaped America’s early history.

Many of my friends and relatives can trace their ancestry back to this famous pair, which made the story of Lewis and Clark feel even more personal. Growing up, I heard the tales of their incredible journey across rugged terrain, battling the elements, and building relationships with Native American tribes. Their accomplishments were lauded in school, and they were celebrated as national heroes.

But then, I discovered something that didn’t quite fit with the image of the heroic explorer I had in mind. Meriwether Lewis died under mysterious circumstances in 1809, just a few years after his historic journey. The details surrounding his death have long been debated, and though we may never know the full truth, some historians speculate that it may have been suicide, possibly linked to the mental and emotional toll of his expedition and subsequent disappointments. The idea that such a strong and courageous man could be overcome by inner demons was unsettling to me.  And there were 2 bullet wounds in his body. It shattered the image I had of him as a flawless, larger-than-life figure.

It was around this time that our pastor, in one of her sermons, encouraged us to read biographies of people of the Christian faith, particularly those published by Youth With A Mission (YWAM). She suggested that learning about the lives of those who followed Christ could offer us inspiration and guidance in our own spiritual journeys. Curious, I took his advice and discovered that these biographies weren’t just about victories and accomplishments. They also told stories of struggles, doubts, and imperfections. Even the most admired Christian figures had their flaws.

I found that many of the heroes I had revered, including Lewis, were not perfect. They faced personal battles, made mistakes, and sometimes stumbled along the way. It was a sobering reminder that even the best of us have our weaknesses and are, in the end, deeply human. In reading these stories, I realized something essential: we shouldn’t put anyone on a pedestal—at least, not permanently. No human being is without flaw, and all of us are in need of grace.

So who, then, can we truly put on a pedestal? The answer is simple, but profound: Jesus Christ. He is the only perfect man who ever lived. He is the one who walked this earth without sin, the one who showed us the way to live with love, humility, and truth. Jesus is who we worship, and He is who we strive to be like. He is the ultimate model of strength, sacrifice, and virtue. While other figures in history can inspire us, only Christ is truly worthy of our veneration and worship. 

As I reflect on the life of Meriwether Lewis, I’m reminded that even our heroes have their shadows. But in Christ, we find the light that never fades. It’s a light that shines through our imperfections, offering us grace and hope, and showing us that perfection is not a human trait, but a divine one.

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

TEACHING JAY AND RUTH TO DANCE: A BASEMENT ADVENTURE IN HIGH SCHOOL ROMANCE

 

Jay 1963

By ChatGPT

In high school, everyone seems to have their own unique challenges when it comes to navigating the world of dances, mixers, and the delicate art of asking someone out. For my older brother, Jay, the biggest hurdle wasn’t finding a date—it was learning how to dance. He was the kind of guy who could excel in most things—music, Bible club, stage hand for plays, grades, even being the class clown—but when it came to moving rhythmically to a beat, he was completely out of his element.

But it wasn’t just Jay who struggled with the dance floor. Ruth, a good friend of mine from church, also found herself in a similar dilemma. She had a crush on one of my high school classmates, a guy who, for reasons unknown, seemed completely oblivious to her existence. Ruth had the desire to impress him at the next dance, but like Jay, she didn’t know the first thing about dancing. It seemed like a perfect opportunity for me to step in and play matchmaker, not just for my brother, but for Ruth as well.

So, I did what any well-meaning younger sibling would do: I invited them both over to our basement rec room for a "dance lesson."

Me, Ruth, Carolyn, Ben at Calvary Presbyterian 2005

The Dance Floor: Our Basement Rec Room

Our basement rec room was far from glamorous, but it had all the essentials—an old record player, a decent collection of 45s, and a space large enough to attempt a few dance moves without breaking anything (or so we thought). I was ready to turn the basement into a mini dance studio, with Jay and Ruth as my students.

I put on a classic rock and roll song, the kind of upbeat, fast-paced tune that would’ve been perfect for a school dance. The rhythm was catchy and easy enough to follow… or so I thought. Jay, as usual, was full of energy, but his coordination was lacking. Ruth, on the other hand, was a little more reserved but eager to learn.

As we started going over the basic moves, Jay was the first to get a little too enthusiastic. “This isn’t so hard,” he said, jumping up and down to the beat.

Well, his excitement was certainly contagious, but it was also a bit… chaotic. As Jay started bouncing higher and higher, I noticed he was getting closer to the ceiling. Now, our basement had a low ceiling, made even more fragile by the thin, white styrofoam tiles that lined it. It was hardly a sturdy structure for an impromptu dance session, especially one with a guy as physically energetic as Jay.

Before I could say anything, there was a loud thud—and Jay had just dented the ceiling with his head.

We all froze for a moment, staring up at the damage. The dent was unmistakable. A large, noticeable indentation in the white ceiling tile, a permanent reminder of Jay's wild enthusiasm. Ruth’s face turned red from a combination of laughter and embarrassment. I just sighed, trying to suppress my own giggles.

The Outcome: No Dances, No Dates, but Plenty of Memories

Despite the dent in the ceiling and the overall lack of coordination, we didn’t give up. We spent the rest of the afternoon practicing the basic moves, laughing at how awkward we all were. Jay tried to do spins, but they mostly ended with him stumbling into the couch. Ruth, on the other hand, was a little more graceful but still couldn’t quite figure out how to stop her feet from stepping on Jay’s.

When it was all over, Jay still hadn’t learned how to dance—and Ruth, well, she never did manage to get a date with my classmate. But I like to think that we all walked away with something. For Jay, it was a dented ceiling and the realization that maybe he didn’t need to dance to have a good time. For Ruth, it was a fun, albeit unproductive, afternoon of trying to impress a guy who likely never noticed.

As for me, well, I learned that sometimes you can try your best to help people, but the outcome isn't always what you'd expect. At least I gave it a shot.

And the next time there was a school dance, Jay, well, he didn't need a date to have a great time. He had his friends, a few jokes up his sleeve, and—well, let's just say, he didn't need to know how to dance to be the life of the party.

But the dent in the ceiling? That stayed there for years as a reminder that, sometimes, the best plans don’t always go as expected. But they sure make for great stories later.

Proverbs 17:22 A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY: A MEMORY OF AUNT JEANNE'S KINDNESS by ChatGPT

 

Grandma Isabelle with her 4 granddaughters on her 50th wedding anniversary celebration

Family birthdays are more than just a reason to celebrate—they’re an opportunity to reflect on love, tradition, and the thoughtful gestures that make them truly memorable. One such memory I hold close to my heart is from my Grandma’s 80th birthday, a day I’ll always associate with Aunt Jeanne’s incredible kindness, a warm birthday cake, and an unexpected twist involving a Big Mac.

Aunt Jeanne

Aunt Jeanne, with her thoughtful nature, had a special way of making sure no birthday ever went unnoticed, no matter where life took her. Even when she had to be out of town for special occasions, she always found a way to make sure the person being celebrated felt loved and remembered. It was one of her many gifts, and I admired her for it.

That year, as Grandma was about to turn 80, Aunt Jeanne called me up with a request. She was going to be away for a much needed trip to Hawaii, but she wanted to make sure Grandma still had a birthday celebration. “Grandma,” she said, “wants a Big Mac for her birthday, and I want you to bake her a birthday cake and bring it over.”

Now, Grandma’s love for a Big Mac wasn’t something I had ever really thought much about. But Aunt Jeanne’s instructions were clear, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that Grandma was no stranger to craving the simpler things in life. A Big Mac, some cake, and family—what more could you ask for?

So, on Grandma’s special day, I rushed to the kitchen and baked a cake. It was the kind that you could smell baking before it even finished. I slathered it with frosting, making sure it was just sweet enough, just rich enough—perfect for a woman who had lived through nearly a century of birthdays. Afterward, I dashed out the door, cake in hand, and stopped by McDonald’s to pick up the requested Big Mac.

When I got to Grandma’s house, the cake was still warm from the oven, and I could almost feel the warmth of the love surrounding it. I knocked on the door, ready to surprise Grandma with her birthday feast. She answered with a smile, and I handed her the cake and the Big Mac. “Happy 80th, Grandma!” I said, hoping the gesture would be as perfect as Aunt Jeanne envisioned.

But as I set everything down, Grandma looked at me, a bit puzzled, and said, “Girl, it’s still warm!” referring to the cake. She was always so appreciative, so kind, that even the simplest gesture felt like a grand celebration in her eyes.

Later, I found out that I had misunderstood Aunt Jeanne’s instructions. Grandma had wanted me to take her out to McDonald's for the Big Mac, not just bring it to her. I had rushed through everything, eager to make her day special, but missed the part where we were supposed to enjoy the meal together. Aunt Jeanne, ever the thoughtful planner, had arranged it so that we could make a memory by going to the restaurant, sharing a moment with Grandma.

Though I had missed the mark on the details, the warmth of the cake and the sweetness of the gesture—still warm from the oven—made up for it. And for Grandma, it didn’t matter whether we were eating at McDonald's or at home, as long as we were together, celebrating her. That day, her smile was all the thanks I needed.

What I learned from that experience was something simple, yet profound. It wasn’t about the exact details or even the perfect cake. It was about love, tradition, and kindness—the things Aunt Jeanne had always made sure to give, no matter the distance or the circumstances. She may have been out of town that year, but her spirit of thoughtfulness lived on in that birthday cake, in the Big Mac that never made it to the restaurant, and in the heartwarming memory of Grandma’s joyful “Girl, it’s still warm!”

In the end, it wasn’t the birthday meal that mattered most, but the love and care that went into making Grandma’s day feel as special as she was.

Happy birthday, Grandma. You’ll always be in my heart, warm and sweet like that cake.

Proverbs 17:6 Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of children is their fathers.

THE HIGH SEAS, YOUNG ADULT FICTION, AND A LESSON IN LETTING GO

 

Chris and me with our crew in Mexico

By ChatGpt

After our unforgettable adventure on the high seas, I had an idea that seemed perfect for a creative challenge: what if I could turn our real-life adventure into a young adult novel? It was a thrilling and intense experience, and I thought it might translate well into a story. I could imagine a young protagonist battling storms, navigating uncharted waters, and dealing with the kind of challenges that would make for an exciting plot.

So, I dove into the world of young adult literature. I read several adventure novels aimed at young readers to get a sense of pacing, tone, and character development. Inspired by these stories, I sat down and began writing. As I started recounting the details of our trip, I didn't just aim for an accurate retelling—I wanted to craft something that would speak to young minds, filled with the kind of adventure, fear, and triumph that many teenagers dream of experiencing.

In my writing, I imagined the thoughts and feelings of a young person trying to make sense of the vast ocean, the unpredictable weather, and the moments of personal doubt. As the pages turned, complications piled up, and twists of fate played their part, but the story came together into something I might call a novelette. It was short, perhaps, but it felt complete—at least, at that stage.

When I was done, I handed the manuscript over to my son. He read through it carefully, then gave me his feedback: "The protagonist is a wimp," he said bluntly. "You need stronger characters." Ouch. It stung, but I knew he was right. The main character lacked the kind of resilience that a true adventure demanded. Back to the drawing board.

Next, I passed the manuscript to a friend. He was more gentle in his critique, offering thoughtful suggestions and praise where it was due, but still pointing out areas where the narrative could be improved. I appreciated his feedback, but the story felt like it was still missing something—perhaps the depth of the characters, or maybe just the right emotional punch to make it stand out.

At this point, I decided to take a step further into the digital age. I thought, Why not ask ChatGPT for some advice? Surely the AI could help me fine-tune my ideas, offer some narrative directions, or give me insights into character development. So, I uploaded the outline and waited for the suggestions to come pouring in.

And pour in they did. I was given a veritable waterfall of options—plot twists, character arcs, conflicts, and even new settings I hadn't thought about. The problem was, there were so many possibilities that I felt overwhelmed. Every time I tried to hone in on one idea, I was presented with another that seemed equally enticing. It felt like trying to solve a puzzle where every piece seemed to fit, but only after rearranging everything fifty times.

The stress mounted, and the pressure to make the story perfect became more and more intense. My shoulders tensed up. My mind raced. And then, a thought occurred to me: Maybe this isn't my story to finish.

As much as I had invested in the project, as much as I had dreamed of creating something meaningful, I realized that sometimes the best thing you can do is to walk away. Let the story breathe on its own. Leave it for the next generation—my kids, my grandkids, or maybe even someone else who finds inspiration in those pages.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Sometimes, the season for creating is followed by the season for letting go. And that’s exactly what I decided to do. I’m putting the novel aside for now. Maybe one day, someone will pick it up, dust it off, and finish it. But for me, the season of writing has passed, and it’s time to move on to something new.

And that’s okay. In fact, it’s more than okay. It’s liberating.

So, to anyone else who’s caught in the pressure of perfection, remember: sometimes a project isn’t meant to be finished by you. Sometimes, it’s about the process, the learning, and the letting go. That’s where the real adventure lies.

As for the kids and grandkids? Maybe they’ll find inspiration in these pages one day.

THE COSTLY CALL OF CHRISTIANITY; MORE THAN JUST NICE

 

Front and back cover of Jews for Jesus magazine

Tom Holland's Eye-Opening Interview on Christianity

In a fascinating interview with Bari Weiss, historian Tom Holland, author of Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World , sheds light on the radical nature of Christianity—especially how it presents the life and sacrifice of Jesus. During their conversation, Holland makes a profound observation:

"What is radical is that the man Christians believe was divine was someone who had ended up suffering the worst fate imaginable—death by crucifixion—which, in the opinion of the Romans, was the fate visited on a slave."

This statement is not just historically significant; it’s a theological game-changer. Holland’s insight is eye-opening because it challenges many of our modern assumptions about power, glory, and heroism. The idea that the divine, the eternal, would take on such a humiliating and painful death is, as Holland points out, a radical departure from the norms of the ancient world.

For the Romans, crucifixion was a brutal and degrading punishment reserved for the lowest of society—the slaves, the rebels, and the criminals. It was the ultimate display of power, asserting that even life itself could be taken away in the most humiliating manner. But in Christian teaching, this is exactly what the divine chose to endure. Jesus, who Christians believe was the Son of God, accepted this fate and, in doing so, turned the world’s understanding of power upside down.

The Call to Take Up Our Cross

But the radical nature of Christianity doesn’t stop at Jesus' suffering. It extends to the very essence of what it means to follow Him. In Matthew 16:24-26, Jesus challenges His followers to take up their own cross:

"Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?’”

This passage presents a daunting and paradoxical challenge: if we want to truly follow Jesus, we must embrace the cross. We must deny ourselves, surrender our desires for power, comfort, and worldly success, and instead adopt a life of sacrifice. This isn't just being "nice" it is doing whatever Jesus commands.  It requires obedience to what Jesus has told us. Christianity, at its core, is not about seeking pleasure or success on our own terms. It’s about dying to self and living for something far greater-- that is to please Jesus by having faith and trust in Him alone. 

Christianity—Not Fun, But Fulfilling

At first glance, this may seem like a grim or even unappealing proposition. After all, the idea of suffering and self-denial doesn’t exactly sound fun, right? However, there’s a deeper truth in these words: the promise of life.
When Jesus speaks of losing our life for His sake, He’s not suggesting that life is over; He’s offering a paradox. It’s only through this act of surrender, this willingness to carry our own crosses, that we discover what true life really is. To truly live is to live for something beyond ourselves—something eternal.

As Jesus says, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” In other words, it’s when we stop clinging to our temporary, self-centered desires and align ourselves with the eternal purpose of Christ that we truly find fulfillment.

A Life Worth Living

So, while Christianity might not be about “fun” in the conventional sense, it promises a much deeper and more lasting kind of joy. It’s a joy that comes not from avoiding suffering but from finding meaning in it. It’s a joy that comes not from pursuing the world’s definition of success, but from following the example of Jesus—who showed that even in the most painful and humiliating circumstances, there is a deeper, more eternal victory.

When we carry our own crosses—when we endure hardship for the sake of something greater than ourselves—we discover a life that is not just about surviving but truly thriving. As Tom Holland’s interview reveals, Christianity offers a radical, revolutionary view of life, one that turns our world’s values upside down and offers us something far more enduring: a life that is found in sacrifice, not in self-preservation.

In the end, it’s this deeper life that is truly fun. It’s the life that brings meaning and fulfillment, even in the face of hardship. And it’s the life that, as Jesus promised, will never be taken away from us.


Hebrews 11:6  And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.