SEEKING DIVINE GUIDANCE IN THE AGE OF TECHNOLOGY

Snow path--  Monroe, WA 2015.  Photo by Chris.

I was thinking about writing another blog but needed an idea.  Instead of consulting God I thought I'd ask ChatGPT.  Then I realized I was on the wrong path.  I need to take the path to God not Chat GPT. It is much easier to consult God in prayer than to turn on the computer, find the bookmark, and then write my question.  Why didn't I think of consulting God first? I pray that will be my first thought from now on.  

So I asked God to give me some topics to write about.  He put on my mind: "The world and all that is in it."  That resonated with me as I remembered Robert Louis Stevensons poem- "The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." I could write about everything from the smallest bug to the largest natural formation, to books, people, animals and on and on.

Then I asked ChatGPT what in the world I could write about.  It gave me 30 topics about globalization--  none that appealed to me.  All were too big to even condense into a blog. The topics were devoid of any human spirit. ChatGPT is very secular.  

So from now on I will remember to pray.  

 

Just received this article.  Interesting read--  "Phoning a “friend”' by Candice Watters. It is about using a chatbot school counselor. It is everything children don’t need:

Declining mental health among American youth is no secret. It’s the subject of frequent news reports and bestselling books and a fixture of pop culture. Bestselling authors link the growing problem to smartphones and screen time. Meanwhile, school officials are worried about their students, burdened by parents’ expectations, and struggling to meet the rising demand for counselors. What if technology could solve this problem of its own making? 

Enter Sonny, a school counseling chatbot. In “When There’s No School Counselor, There’s a Bot,” Wall Street Journal columnist Julie Jargon describes the part human, part AI hybrid making its way into schools across the country. In the words of Sonar Mental Health, Sonny’s developers, it’s a “personal wellbeing companion” that K-12 students can chat with “about literally anything.” 

What sets this chatbot apart from pure AI, says Jargon, is the human element. She reports, “humans with backgrounds in psychology, social work and crisis-line support are always in the mix, reviewing the chats and taking cues from AI to inform their own replies to students.” 

But a closer look at Sonar’s own webpage and its “Human-In-The-Loop model” is less reassuring. Who are the humans listening in on conversations “about anything” with school children? They’re 20-somethings. Sonar says it hires young people because they’re “closer in age” with “similar backgrounds” and better able to “empathize and connect with the students.” It also makes Sonny “more affordable.” Indeed. 

At Sonar, youth input is central. “Teens know what works best for them,” their website says, “that’s why student voices shape everything we do,” including how Sonny sounds. Sonar’s co-founder Drew Barvir told the Journal that the AI speaks like a cool older sibling. 

Are these cool older siblings the mental health professionals who are “always in the mix”? Hardly. The website’s disclaimer says 20-somethings are “not licensed mental health professionals.” Such experts are further removed from the chats, providing support to the people who are monitoring the chats. 

But even that isn’t what it appears to be. According to Jargon’s reporting, a staff of six people, across shifts, can monitor 15 to 25 chats at a time. But Sonny, who is available to kids from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m., is being used by 4,500 middle and high school students over nine school districts. That math doesn’t add up. Sonny must be more AI than human—a lot more. 

Children in crisis need adults who know them personally and are committed to their good.

Sonar’s use of AI to “catch problems early” is no solution. Meeting kids on their phones—the very place responsible for so much of their mental anguish—and engaging them with AI chats that are monitored (loosely defined) by 20-somethings is deeply concerning. Far from solving school officials’ problems, Sonny is likely to make things worse. Children will think Sonny is a trusted friend, but they’ll be deceived. It’s a Frankenstien monster that’s part computer program, part 20-something mash-up without wisdom. And it will likely draw children into their devices even more, cutting them off from the real people who can help them. 

Even if Sonar could fully staff Sonny with trained mental health professionals, it would still be a bad idea. Psychoanalyst Erica Komisar, writing for the Institute for Family Studies, points to what children need most in this mental health crisis, and it’s not AI chatbots. What children need most is their parents. Parents, she says, “are the lenses that help children see just far enough into the future to understand the impact of their choices. They are the moral shelter children need to grow into emotionally and ethically-grounded adults.” To truly help children, Komisar calls for “ending the outsourcing of parenting to schools, therapists, and social media influencers.” 

As parents, we feel the limits of our human intelligence. But how much more are the limits of the 20-something wellbeing companions who have never met the children they’re chatting with? Assurances that they’re guided by AI running on “machine learning” and “social media insights” fall flat. It’s no benefit that the youth on the other end of the chats are “safe and judgment-free.” What school children often need to hear is that they’re thinking wrongly, that their plans are foolish, or that a course-correction is overdue. They need to hear this from their parents, pastors, and other sources of wisdom. 

From the beginning, God made parents to love their children, with all of their unique needs, and bring them up in the instructions of His Word (see Deuteronomy 6:6-7 and Ephesians 6:4). This is where wisdom is found. Parents may occasionally need to enlist the help of a trusted pastor or biblical counselor—but never a computer-generated conversation overseen by a kid barely older than their own children.

AI-generated “counselors” can’t help children or teens in need of real support. It will only intensify the pathologies emerging from screen time and scrolling. Children in crisis need adults who know them personally and are committed to their good, adults who can help to see the truth about God, the brokenness of the world, and their own need for redemption and grace. They need this apart from the screens that are so often the platform of their suffering. Parents, your kids may need counsel, but they don’t need hybrid counseling chatbots. They need you.

Proverbs 1:23 If you turn at my reproof, behold, I will pour out my spirit to you; I will make my words known to you.

SIPPING LEMONADE AND SOAKING UP THE SUN

 

Growing up, some of my fondest memories were of the picnics I enjoyed with my family in Spokane. Whether it was with my dad’s side or my mom’s side of the family, picnics were always a time of laughter, games, and great food. The casual atmosphere and being surrounded by family made these summer outings something I looked forward to every year.

My grandparents set the tradition for picnics when planning picnics with friends from Wisconsin.  The Spokane newspapers would cover the events of a close-knit group of friends who had moved farther west. Those friends would gather together for their annual summer picnic. Grandpa was especially involved in the planning, taking on the important task of organizing the sports and games that everyone would enjoy. From three-legged races to tug-of-war, Grandpa made sure there was never a dull moment. I admired how much care he took in making sure everyone had fun, no matter their age.

On my mom’s side, the picnics took on a slightly different flavor. Those grandparents shared their love of summer picnics with friends who had moved from Iowa to Spokane. They invited my other grandparents to join them.  Wearing dresses and hats they took off their white gloves for the occasion.

From left to right I don't know the gentleman, next Grandpa Roy, Grandpa Claude, Grandma Grace, Grandma Isabel

In later years we would have family picnics when the five cousins gathered. Whether we were playing with frisbees, running around, or simply chatting and catching up, the atmosphere could be warm and welcoming--  except for one cousin who would play tricks on us.  

Picnics in Spokane had a special charm, and the locations were perfect for these family gatherings. Sometimes we would gather at Manito Park, with its beautiful green spaces and walking paths, and other times, we would head to Natatorium Park, where the carnival rides were available for us to ride. Either way, both locations felt like a retreat from the busy everyday life, a chance to slow down and enjoy the moment with loved ones. Here are the best places to picnic in Spokane now. Click on the word here to open.

Some years, we would even celebrate my birthday during these picnics, as my birthday falls in the summer. There’s something special about blowing out candles surrounded by the people who mean the most to you, with the smell of grilled food in the air and the sound of children’s laughter filling the space.

Looking back, I realize how important those picnics were in shaping my love for family gatherings and outdoor fun. They weren’t just about the food or the games, though both were certainly highlights. They were about the connections we made, the stories we told, and the simple joy of spending time together. Those summer picnics in Spokane are a cherished memory that will always hold a special place in my heart.

Proverbs 17:17 A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.

MOMS IN PRAYER INTERNATIONAL

 Moms-- I have been involved with Moms in Prayer since 1989.  My best friends are the moms I pray with every week.  If you would like to have prayer partners to pray for your children sign up for the conference below.  💕 Bobbi

"A day to relax in the river of grace" Hi, Bobbi! Katie Kondo, Moms in Prayer Washington State Coordinator, is excited to personally invite you to Victorious Northwest!   Come and meet faithful sisters of every age and every stage of life. You’ll gain a fresh vision of what it looks like to live a lifestyle of prayer.  Watch the video below to hear Katie share more about this “day to relax in the river of grace.” Victorious Northwest Saturday, March 22, 2025 9:00 am – 3:00 pm Lake City Church 6000 N Ramsey Rd. Coeur d'Alene, ID 83815 REGISTER TODAY! $22 (includes lunch) Forward this message to a friend you want to attend with you! Share This Email   Share This Email   Share This Email FOLLOW US

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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.