GRANDPA CLAUDE: THE GRAMMAR GURU

 

The above newspaper clipping was published in the Spokesman Review some years ago, offering a fascinating window into a moment from our family history. The incident it describes took place while Grandpa Claude was working for the U.S. Post Office in downtown Spokane. A small controversy broke out when he posted a sign on the post office's revolving door that read “go slow.” What seemed like a simple notice sparked a flurry of public reaction—letters of complaint were written, letters of defense followed, and all were published in the Spokesman Review.

At the time, Grandpa held the position of assistant custodian. From what I understand, he was eventually promoted to superintendent. Learning that he had once been a schoolteacher helped me better appreciate his attention to proper grammar. In that light, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he stood his ground on the phrasing of the sign.

Reading the article gave me a meaningful glimpse into what Grandpa was like back then—principled, precise, and quietly influential. It also brought to mind Proverbs 9:9: “Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man, and he will increase in learning.”

A Patriotic Journey: On Celebrating Independence Day

 

Independence Hall.  Photo's by Bobbi

As we celebrate Independence Day, I’m reminded of our family trip to the East Coast back in 1991. After a brief but meaningful tour of Washington, D.C., we continued on to Philadelphia—rich in history and significance to our nation’s founding.

One of the highlights was our visit to Independence Hall. Walking through that historic site, I couldn’t help but reflect on the profound work accomplished there by our Founding Fathers—work that, I believe, could only have been done with Providential help. It was Benjamin Franklin, after all, who famously called for prayer during the Constitutional Convention.

Following that inspiring experience, we took a carriage ride through the historic district. While I appreciated the charm and character of the area, I was disheartened by the visible damage and graffiti. It gave off a sense of neglect and unease—as if gangs had claimed parts of this treasured space. Still, we made it safely through and ended our tour with a visit to the Liberty Bell, a stirring symbol of freedom.

That trip left a lasting impression on me. I’m still amazed that the United States continues to be a beacon of hope for nations seeking liberty. May we always stand in the gap for those who long to be free.

Happy 4th of July. May "Ev'ry heart beats true

'neath the Red, White and Blue,"

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Psalm 33:12 Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord,

    the people whom he has chosen as his heritage!

MOM SAID BE HAPPY GOD SAID BE HOLY

 

Mom high school graduation 1935

What Mom wanted for the five of us kids—Jay Leroy, Roberta Joy, Evy, Davy, and Wayney Boy—was for us to be happy. That was her hope and prayer.

As I grew older, I began chasing happiness in all the usual places—friends, money, popularity, traveling, self-improvement, career, and more. For a while, those things felt fulfilling. But deep down, it was never enough. There was always something more to strive for, a goal just out of reach.

On the outside, I had many blessings—my husband, children, houses, and much more. I did count those blessings, but then life took an unexpected turn. Like Paul in Scripture, I ended up with a thorn in my side.

In desperation, I prayed and prayed. I went from doctor to doctor searching for answers. Slowly, I had to let go of everything I once enjoyed—friends, family gatherings, traveling, aerobics, dancing, singing, putting on shows, working at the library... and more.

During this season of loss, I cried out to God. And in that quiet place of surrender, He placed something new on my heart: I could still pray, and I could learn to write.

This small beginning opened new doors. I joined prayer groups, started and led Moms in Prayer groups, and began writing—first a novel, then a blog. I immersed myself in God’s Word and found comfort in time spent with His people.

Yet even in this new path, I came to another crossroads. I finally gave up striving and asked God to do in me whatever He pleased. That surrender was the turning point.

He began to speak to me through Scripture, giving me verses that reassured me of His faithfulness—that He would complete the work He had started in me.

A dear friend, Nan, gently reminded me of something I hold on to: “It's in Trusting, not trying.”

"Sometimes life seems like words and music
That can't quite become a song
So we cry inside, and we try again
And wonder what could be wrong
But, when we turn to the Lord
At the end of ourselves
Like we've done a time or two before
We find His truth is the same
As it has always been
We never will need more

It's not in trying but in trusting
It's not in running but in resting
Not in wondering but in praying
That we find the strength of the Lord

It's not in trying but in trusting
Not in running but in resting
Not in wondering but in praying
That we find the strength of the Lord

He's all we need for our every need
We never need be alone
Still He'll let us go if we choose to
To live life on our own
Then the only good that will ever be said
Of the pains we find ourselves in
There are places to gain the wisdom to say
I'll never leave Him again"

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Now, God is teaching me patience and perseverance—not the kind I would have chosen, but the kind I need. He is helping me love others better and guiding me to strive, not for worldly happiness, but toward His goal: to be holy, as He is holy.

As Philippians 1:6 reminds us:
“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

FATHER'S DAY

 

My grandmother Isabel was a founding member of the Father's Day Committee.  I can't find her in this picture.  Maybe you can.  Father's Day Picnic Spokane, WA 1915.

I’m so thankful that we have a day set aside to honor fathers. It’s a meaningful time to reflect on and celebrate the powerful difference a father can make in a child’s life.

To underscore that impact, researchers Fagan and Palm from the Institute for Family Studies shared this insight—click here to read the whole report.

The term “activation relationship” describes the emotional bond between fathers and children that enables the child to feel safe to take both physical and social risks and explore their environment. … When fathers interact with sensitivity and warmth, they provide a secure base for exploration and encourage children to go out into the world and then come back to share with [their] fathers.

That quote resonates deeply with me. Reflecting on my own father, I realize he must have done a good job—because I left home at 18 and never looked back. My dreams unfolded by the grace of God just as I hoped. I found myself traveling the world: first by car, train, bus, steamboat, and airplane.

Later, I was fortunate to marry a man who shared that same love of adventure—especially through sailing. Even more importantly, I was blessed to have a husband who loved his children wholeheartedly.

Interestingly, Spokane was already a vibrant place back in 1915. The women of the community planned a special Father’s Day picnic in one of the city’s beautiful parks. (See photo above.)

The Spokesman Review recently shared a powerful story about the origins of Father’s Day, which started right here in Spokane.
One highlight from that story was about the descendants of Sonora Smart Dodd, the woman credited with founding the holiday. Her great-granddaughter, Betsy Roddy—the last direct descendant—continues to honor that legacy. Each year, she writes two Father’s Day cards: one to her father, and one to her great-grandmother. It’s a touching family tradition that keeps Sonora Dodd’s vision alive and reminds us all of the lasting impact of fatherhood.

This year’s Father’s Day celebration in Spokane marked a special milestone and served as a reminder of how fathers help build strong, resilient communities.

I am filled with gratitude for fathers—both past and present.

As Luke 11:11 reminds us:
"What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent?"

SALUTING 250 YEARS OF DUTY, HONOR, AND COUNTRY

 

Photo by Chris

My experience as a Sponsor with the ROTC Sponsor Corps at Eastern Washington University back in 1965 was thoroughly enjoyable. We marched every day, practicing for military parades—and I loved every minute of it.

That said, the scene described above may be all too familiar when a drill sergeant singles out a new recruit in an effort to toughen him up. Some recruits respond well to this kind of challenge, while others look for creative ways to avoid it altogether. I've heard of recruits becoming drivers for officers or working as company photographers—clever ways to steer clear of the drill sergeant’s attention.

Kitchen Patrol (KP) is another strategy that sometimes works. If you show up at 3 a.m. to peel potatoes, you might just earn the rest of the day off. Of course, I’ve never been in the military myself, so I can only speak from what I’ve heard.

Now, looking ahead to this Saturday in Washington, D.C., there will be a celebration marking 250 years of the U.S. Army. Congratulations to all our brave warriors on this incredible milestone!

DUCKS, FLOWERS, AND YELLOWJACKETS

 

Photo by Chris 2016 Monroe, WA

William Spurstowe (1605–1666), a Puritan clergyman, saw sermons everywhere. "Knotty trees. Crumbling walls. Flying insects. A gentle breeze. For Spurstowe, everything was an opportunity to think about God." After sixty years of such reflection, he wrote a book entitled The Spiritual Chemyst, detailing this practice.  Click here to read the "Cripplegate" article.

In many ways, I can relate to Spurstowe’s view. God has comforted me, surprised me, and even warned me through His creation—sometimes in ways I only understood in hindsight.

When I lost my sister, for instance, He sent a cheerful robin. I watched it search for worms, and in that simple moment, I felt a quiet reassurance, a small mercy in the middle of grief. At another time, I attended a memorial for the sister of an acquaintance. During the service, the surviving sister mentioned that yellow roses were her sister’s favorite flower. After her passing, a yellow rose unexpectedly sprouted in her garden—something she hadn’t planted, as far as she knew. A small, surprising sign of beauty and comfort.

God’s timing has also been startling. When our son Jes was 11, I allowed him to go to the store with two 12-year-old friends. I was uneasy about him crossing a busy street before turning 12, but the older boys promised to look after him. While I was at a farmers market, a yellow jacket stung me near my eye. It hurt enough that I decided to head home to remove the stinger. Just as I pulled into the driveway, Gary came running to tell me Jes had been hit by a car.

We rushed to the scene. The people who had hit him had placed a pillow under his head but hadn’t moved him. Shortly after, an ambulance arrived. At the hospital, we learned Jes had only sustained contusions and abrasions. I can’t help but think—if that yellow jacket hadn’t stung me, no one would have known where I was, or how to reach me. Even in a moment of pain, God was guiding the timing.

And then there are the times God simply delights us.

Years ago, Chris began saying we needed “more ducks in the world.” I thought it was one of his jokes. Our friends in Oregon gifted him a stuffed toy duck, which we still have. Soon he was collecting rubber ducks, then toy ducks of all kinds. It was whimsical and sweet. Then, when we moved to a condo in Monroe, our backyard became home to a real flock of ducks. How God surprises us—sometimes even with the desires of our hearts. I think Chris is over ducks now (at least, he hasn’t added to his collection recently), but the memory reminds me how God listens, even when we’re only half-serious.

All we have to do is look to see that God is near to us—in grief, in protection, in joy.

Psalm 145:18
The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth.

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THOSE WHO HAVE GONE BEFORE US

 

Memorial Day 2016 near Carnation, WA. Photo by Bobbi.

I have been privileged to visit cemeteries across the country, from Virginia to Washington. Each one holds its own quiet story, a solemn reminder of the sacrifices made. At Arlington National Cemetery, I was particularly moved by the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The precision and unwavering dedication of the stoic guards left a lasting impression on me.

At national cemeteries like Tahoma, near Tacoma, WA, military veterans are buried free of charge—a fitting tribute to their service. In contrast, some families have chosen private plots, with gravesites stretching from New York to California to Washington. These resting places vary greatly: some lie in vast, sweeping cemeteries; others in small, almost hidden spaces. Some are marked with headstones, while others remain unmarked. Some of the deceased served in the military, while others did not. Each grave, however, represents a life, a story, and a connection to history.

As Memorial Day approaches, it’s important to pause and remember those who have defended our nation. It’s a time of reflection and gratitude. For me, one memorable moment was when Chris and I stumbled upon a beautifully solemn scene during a Memorial Day weekend, possibly in Monroe, WA. The precision of the ceremony—it was deeply moving and a tribute to the dedication so many put into honoring our fallen.

This year, I hope to watch military band concerts on TV, taking in the music and tradition from home. Someday, Chris and I may visit the cemeteries in Spokane to place flowers on the graves of our ancestors—a quiet gesture of remembrance.

I’m reminded of these words from Scripture:

1 Thessalonians 4:16–18
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

May we carry that encouragement with us as we honor and remember.

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