BEFUDDLED

To be confused is a state of mind when things don’t always add up. You might be facing an illness – a relationship breakdown – a financial issue – a family struggle where all the facts point to a solution and suddenly you are faced with another option. What do you do? Like the quote above, “if confusion is the first step to knowledge, I must be a genius,” I have been on this path all my life. By now I should be more brilliant than Einstein – have a higher IQ than Leonardo da Vinci – be as innovative as Edison and as rich as John D. Rockefeller. Instead, I’m an average 81-year-old woman who has accomplished very little in this life but continues to learn every day.

As King Solomon expressed his opinion of life being meaningless, there are days when I wonder why am I here? I struggle with the opinions of others. I become confused when people can’t take “no” for an answer. I am totally bewildered by the health care system. I wonder about our country – our morality – our sin. I’m at a loss concerning the violence that continues to escalate in our world. Question marks fly above my head when I have to fill out a health care form that asks what I identify as.

Still, in all this confusion – the roller coaster rides of life – the fear of death and loss – the trust in other human beings which has been challenged, all leads to more confusion. There is only one thing that allows me to carry on. I know that God, my Creator, my Father, my Brother, my Savior, my everything, is in complete control of every perplexing thing that tugs at my heart. His Word always draws me to the right passage. He never changes and He is always available to counsel me.

“Let myย cry come before you, O”ย Lord;
ย ย ย ย give me understandingย according to your word!” Psalm 119:169 ESV

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GNARLY

ART & POETRY BY PAUL T. & KATHY BOECHERยฉ

Trapped beneath the rugged surface of gnarly bark and battered limbs,

Roots reaching out to grab a drink for a thirsty trunk,

Hidden within the depth,

Faces sullied by nature, yet deeply entrenched with character,

Wrinkled and shriveled over time,

Still capturing the rays of the sun,

Still suffering under gale force winds and driving rain,

Still trying to force their way into a sin filled world,

I wonder what a tree would say if it could talk.

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QUIESCENCE

The word, “quiescence,” is one we don’t use very often. Its meaning refers to a state of dormancy, inactivity, idleness or suspended animation. Going to sleep has never been a problem for me. I can hit the pillow and find myself in dreamland in no time at all. As I grow older, I’m spending more and more time in that suspended animation state. The intensity of my days seems to have come to a waning afterthought, but still in my quiet time,ย I’m learning to categorize the important things – eliminate the unnecessary – prioritize the meaningful – resist the desire to return to the same mega-ferociousness of my once extremely exhausting lifestyle.

Up until the past few years my time has been dedicated to others and the thought of turning inward doesn’t fit my vocabulary. The idea of taking a nap in the middle of the day is new to me.ย  The thought of not having something to keep busy is frustrating.ย  I know the time has come for me to enjoy my life without obligation, but that concept has a hard time butting its way into my little pea brain. I guess that’s why God has built sleep into our being. Even though He doesn’t need rest, He took the last day of the week off to rest.

I think about the animals of His creation and how they inwardly know when it’s time to hibernate. I am amazed at how humanity can stretch out time to the limit without rest. Now that our clocks have been set back, I wonder if I’ll ever adjust to the change. It seems to be a conundrum for me. Maybe it’s because I don’t like change.

So how does one go from an extremely busy schedule to a non-existent one?ย  Most people would be delighted to simply let go of all responsibility, restraints or burdens.ย  I secretly have thought how delicious that concept would be.ย  Something inside me is still beckoning me to do all things at the pace of Martha as she prepared a meal for her Savior.ย ย I dream of becoming more like Mary in my approach to this new way of life. Still there are times when I become burdened with guilt for sitting around and doing nothing. This Bible passage is very comforting.

Proverbs 3:24 “If you lie down, you will not be afraid;
ย ย ย ย when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.

Dear, Lord, thank you for blessing my life with peaceful rest.ย  Help me to accept this new way of living and renewing me so that I can further serve you – in your way – not mine. Amen!

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DARK THOUGHTS – SUICIDE


Recently, we were shocked to learn that funny man, Matthew Perry, took his own life. The man that spent most of his energy making others laugh finally succumbed to his own sadness and depression. Death by suicide is never the answer to our fears, our depression or anxiety. In the process of taking one’s own life, it is not only ending one life. It also is a crushing blow to those left behind. We often become aware of the mental trials a person has endured when it becomes too late to do anything about it.

There are a number of reasons why people take their own lives. For example, extreme depression, brought on by feelings of low self-worth – money issues – the fact that your life isn’t going the way you want. It can be the result of impulsive behavior – a cry for help – an actual psychotic disorder, like schizophrenia or PTSD. The increase in the number of suicide deaths is on the rise. We see it touching the lives of the young, middle aged as well as our senior community. I was surprised to read that 85% of those committing suicide are 85+, yet as I get closer to that age bracket, I suppose one might feel the world would be better without them. I also can understand why, when life becomes so overwhelming – so hopeless – so dark – that we forget who has the final say about our lives and our deaths. He has a plan for each life that exists on this planet. He has even given us the faith to trust in Him for direction in our lives.

Jeremiah 29:11-12 – “For I know the plans I have for you, declares theย LORD, plans for welfareย and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.ย Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.”

There is hope for everyone. When we realize that God’s plan is so much better than ours, we can lessen the pain of depression and anxiety. We can guide anyone who is thinking about ending their lives in this way by giving them the counseling they need through the resources available at the Suicide Intervention Hotline at 988. This number will allow you to text or chat.

There is so much confusion today in our world. There are senseless wars – relationship problems – questions about our own identity – fear of disease – countless other things that gnaw away at our existence. Still there is hope. God is available all the time. He is with each one of us in our misery. He knows how to calm, comfort, treat our illnesses and He’s given us the hope of life here and in eternity. lIFE

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GOD IS NOT DEAD

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

‘One nation under God,” is what our founders said,

But something happened on the way.

They now say God is dead.

I know our God lives on. He stands at

heaven’s gate.

And he will bring our nation back from greed and lies and hate.

Under our power alone, we cannot run the race.

He sent His dear Son, Jesus, to die and take our place.

Because He is our God, He’ll never let us stray.

He holds our hands and leads us into His holy way.

When we turn back to God,

His arms are open wide.

He doesn’t look at our mistakes,

but instead, He looks inside.

So, let’s get back to basics and

remember who we are.

Our God’s not dead. He lives and reigns in hearts both near and far.

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A NOVEL IDEA

Well, it’s already November 4, 2023, and four days into “Nanwrimo.” I’ve procrastinated once again. I have a couple novel ideas. In fact, I wrote one about five years ago and it’s still somewhere on a flash drive, yet unpublished. One of the comments on a submission I made, suggested that I take some writing classes and maybe try again. I’m not good at taking rejection. I’ve written almost a hundred plays in my lifetime. I wrote a screenplay once. I write a daily blog. I write poetry that seems to be enjoyed. I don’t write letters much anymore, because no one can read my handwriting. I’ve written commercials. I’ve written several children’s stories. I seem to be able to write a lot. Writing has been much a part of my existence for several decades, but I can’t seem to get past this fear of rejection.

So, can I write a novel in a month? The requirements for this event are simple enough. Am I too late to begin? Can I use an existing, unsolicited, unpublished piece? The aim of this event is to get us to write at least 1700 words a day. By the end of November, you should have accumulated 50,000 words and the completed first draft. No editing is necessary. Sounds pretty easy. Maybe I’ll get started after Thanksgiving. Talk about procrastination.

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TIME MELTING AWAY . . .

I’m not a fan of Surrealistic art, but in 1931, Salvador Dali painted the above image, called. “The Persistence of Memory. The painting created quite a stir and tested the intelligence of everyone who viewed it. What was the deeper meaning of this painting? As the wife of an artist, I can tell you that the mind of an artist is always active. Even when they sleep, vivid dreams are being created for future art. There isn’t always a motivation for painting. Sometimes an artist will simply try to recreate the beauty of nature. “Why don’t you just take a photograph?” some might ask. However, the painting artist has a slightly different eye for the depth of his art. So much of that person is enveloped in the final result. It no longer becomes another image, like everyone else might visualize, but an actual piece of the artist is imbedded into the work. I can imagine what Dali was thinking while creating this masterpiece, but to actually get inside his head is impossible.

This weekend, as we once again change time to save the hour that we lost last spring, I can’t help but think of this particular image. The melting clocks are so much like memories that are slowly slipping away. They no longer maintain their original shape. Some have been added to over time. They become larger than life. As years pass, that memory no longer resembles the truth of the original event. So it is with time. As we grow older, the years seem to melt into one another. We often forget the truth of the past. We may even try to forget it altogether. Age can cause us to dwell on the past, as we forget about things that happened five minutes ago.

When we’re young we have all the time in the world. As we grow into adulthood, the years are filled to the brim with obligations and responsibilities. Time flies during those years. As we come to the end of life, time should slow down, but it seems to step on the gas at the last moment. Each day runs into the next. Our pace slows down, but the hours pass quickly as we approach the end of them. At times, we can’t imagine how we will ever make it through this life, but there is more time waiting for us beyond the grave. God saw to it that time would never end for those who believe in Him and His unconditional love. He gave His life for us. That’s truth that far exceeds time.

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FACELESS FRIENDS. . .

When you’re a blogger, there are so many people to interact with. I’ve never met any of them. I know only what I see of them in their postings. Their writings are often thought provoking. They become friends through those words. I’ve been blogging for more than twelve years. Many of those I follow come from various parts of the United States, Canada and other countries. There are a few that I’ve followed for a long time. Some of them leave the world of blogging and I never hear from them again, but when that happens, I miss them.

One of the first people I met was a cattle rancher from the south. He inspired me to write about my faith. I enjoyed reading his stories about working with a group of Jewish Christians. Another fellow from the south worked as a cable guy and went into nursing a few years later. A Jewish convert to Christianity, a wife, a mother, a lawyer and captivating writer was one that a met a few years into this history. Each of these remained friends for quite a while and then they were gone. It was like losing a good friend.

Recently, I became friends with a young woman who is fighting for her life. She is about the same age as my oldest daughter. This faithful young Christian has worked with children with special needs, has a family of her own and has endured a long struggle with Cancer. There is the woman whose son lost his life in an automobile accident. The fellow that writes amazing commentaries on the teachings of Christ. His creative side comes out in his characters including eggs, apples and other foodstuffs. He has a whole series of stories meant to amuse as well as teach. He recently lost his lovely wife, but his faith allows him to grieve with the assurance that he will see her again someday in heaven. There’s a woman who grew up in a family accompanied by addiction. She knows the pain of losing someone she loves to that very malady. She is humorous, steadfast in her faith and always has a great lesson to teach us about this crazy world we live in. There is another woman who has been trying for many years to write a memoir about growing up with a narcissistic, abusive mother. I’m sure that story will help many people going through a similar experience.

There are countless others that I follow each day. My point is, I don’t know these people personally, but I feel like I know some of their inmost thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams and goals. This venue is often a place for us to vent. We may share things that we would never otherwise share with another human being. We become vulnerable to attack for some of our words. We are placing our lives on the line in a way.

I wonder how God feels when each of His creatures come to Him with their inmost, deepest thoughts and prayers. Of course, He’s God, so I will never be able to comprehend His power. I do know that His love is also beyond my comprehension and that when we pray, He hears each word. He listens with attentive ears. He knows the solution before we even utter the words. It must be like a great cacophony of voices though. All asking for something. All pleading for answers. All praying for wisdom. Yet, He hears every individual prayer and has already planned for the outcome.

When we tell our stories, we’re laying it all out there, sort of like what we do when we pray. I pray for each of those people who share their blogs with us. We can add them to our prayer lists. We can reach out to them with possible solutions or wisdom, but only God can give complete and perfect answers.

Dear, Heavenly Father. You know our every need. You can relate to our struggles. You know the things that bother us and eat away at our very core. Help us to trust in you completely. Your wisdom is all that matters. This world will continue to decay, but you will always be there for us. In the name of your Son, Jesus, who took on human flesh and became one of us, I pray. Amen!

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TO CELEBRATE THOSE IN HEAVEN

Today, the church celebrates those who have preceded us in heaven – the saints, as they are referred to. This includes all those who have passed away, believing that Jesus redeemed them and prepared a special home for them in paradise. Not really knowing what heaven will be like, it’s hard to even begin to imagine what lays before us as we pass into those pearly gates leading to eternal life. When you attend a funeral, you might hear words like – He/she is in a better place – no sorrow or pain – new bodies without infirmities – sitting on a cloud – singing praises to God. You might even hear someone suggest that the loved one is playing cards – having coffee – bowling or playing golf – enjoying the good life. Somehow, those words, meant to give us comfort, really don’t. To know that they are alive again – that they have resurrected from death to life – that they are talking face to face with Jesus – that there is no more sin – that life is perfect – those are words that give us peace. Yet comfort doesn’t come to those who are left behind. It may take many years to recover from the loss of one we love. Their memory has been etched into our hearts and become part of us. Their legacy becomes ours eventually, as we follow the road they have laid for us.

The church of today has given us this “holiday” to thank God for the truth of eternal life. Protestants set this day aside to meditate on that fact and look forward to it. It is looked at as a festival. The Roman Catholic church has chosen to celebrate All Saints Day as a day of obligation and prayer for those who have died and paved the way for the rest of us to follow. Which ever way you choose to look at this day, it truly is a time of celebration. This is not just a day for saints like Peter and Paul. It isn’t reserved for the heroes of faith, like Moses, Abraham, David or Samson. The day is a time to reflect on those who trusted in God’s promise of salvation for those who believe in Him. It includes the very young, the teenagers, the middle-agers and the elderly. It includes every resident of heaven. We don’t know what heaven will be like, but I am certain it exists – that it will resemble the Garden of Eden which God originally created for man – and that I’m going there some day. How about you?

1 For all the saints who from their labors rest,
who Thee by faith before the world confessed;
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

2 Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

3 O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

4 And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

5 But then there breaks a still more glorious day:
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

6 From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
in praise of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Author – William Walsham How (1864)

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WHAT’S HAPPY ABOUT HALLOWEEN?

Ah, the joys of the season – the holiday celebrating the living dead – the ghosts that go bump in the night – the fear filled movies that are intended to scare you to an early grave – the spirits of darkness. All of these things are not something to be happy about, but . . .

Halloween has become a million-dollar industry.ย  We live in the Halloween Capital of the World (not sure if that’s been disputed) in Anoka, Minnesota.ย  Homes are decorated to the hilt.ย There will be numerous parties. parades and candy distributed-ย encouragingย children to destroy their teeth,ย but I digress. There’s a very dark side to this holiday.ย  Demonic possession, witches, goblins, zombiesย and death permeate the darkness and, in days of old, were fended off by setting carved pumpkins outside the houses.ย  As years pass, the ability to shock the masses is getting harder and harder to achieve. We’ve almost become numb to the ugliness of the dark side.

October 31st is not only a day for spooks and demons.ย  On October 31, 1517, a lowly monk, named Martin Luther took on the Roman Catholic Church and listed 95 statements pertaining to false teachings that had spread throughout that regime.ย  Those 95 theses were the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.ย  This firestorm raged through Europe and the power of the newly invented printing press fueled its flames. The church of today has suffered attack in recent years. People question its validity. They don’t like to hear about sin, but without knowing about it, there is no need for a Savior – and, oh how we need a Savior!

Martin Luther loved music and used it as a preaching tool in his church. He penned these words to remind us that the devil still exists and has been allowed to prowl around for those he can capture and destroy. His minions appear in many places all over the world. “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” is one of Luther’s famous hymns. In the following verse we see exactly who provides a fortress against him.

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us.
We tremble not, we fear no ill,
They shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none,
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.

Devils will continue to walk this earth until Christ returns to judge the world.ย  Not one of us will escape His judgment.ย  Yet those of us who have complete faith in God’s Word, can be confident that God promises that we will inherit eternal life when we die. Luther was a common man, a sinner just like you and me, but He diligently searched the scriptures and found controversial differences in what the Bible said and what the church was teaching.ย 

So, what do Halloween and the Reformation have in common?ย  Halloween is full of darkness, evil and horrid creatures that seek to defeat us.ย  The Reformation occurred so that the world would once more see the Light and return to God’s Word for the truth. May we continue to shine our light in a dark world and show that God has already defeated the evil one.

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MONDAY MORNING SLEEP IN . . .

I am amazed by people who get up early in the morning, do a load of wash or two, make lunches for their kids, plan supper, go out for a quick run, take a shower, get their kids up and off to school, put in a full day at work; and then come home to make supper, help kids with homework, pay the bills, watch a little TV and finally have a few hours of sleep so they can go through the whole process all over again the next day. I guess I used to do those things at one time. I’ve forgotten.

Even though Iโ€™m supposed to be retired, my time seems to get used up before my body and mind have a minute to catch up with them. This has been business as usual at our house lately. We’ve devoted a great portion of our time to filling every minute with each other. It seems that an inoperable Cancer diagnosis can do that to you. Since deciding to forego any further treatment, we’ve been putting our time to good use. Even then – trying to fill every moment can become tiresome and might become a burden in itself. We still need time to rest. We try to hang on to the controls of our lives even when our existence is loaded with worry, trouble, depression, pain and anxiety. It should be so easy to let it all go and depend on God’s promise to carry those things for us. Somehow, even that can become a struggle.

I am learning to “let go” daily. It’s a lesson that comes very hard. I try to place my worries in God’s hands but feel like I should still be involved in the process. Today, I slept in. I felt guilty about it. I will get over the feeling of guilt, but when will I learn to turn over the burden to Jesus, who promises to take it on His own back?

When we are so tired from hard work; when our bodies just canโ€™t function anymore; when life seems to be closing in on us there is only one place to go and Iโ€™m not talking about a spa or a vacation. Jesus told his followers in Matthew 11:28 โ€œCome to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.โ€

Lord, I need your loving arms to caress me each day and give me the strength to do the work I need to do. Thank you for your invitation to come to you even when Iโ€™m tired. Help me to rely on your promise and let go of the things that are unimportant. Amen!

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REFORMATION THOUGHTS

Luther at Worms

At the time of the Protestant Reformation, the Renaissance was creating many new ideas, machines that would further progress and the questioning of the reigning church of the time, the Roman Catholic Church stood with many reigning kings in various Christian nations. The thought of questioning the church was really not a possibility. Leonardo DaVinci was exploring how a man could take flight at the same time as he was working on plans for an armored tank. In his spare time, he created amazing pieces of art. World trade was bringing new ideas, new business tactics and creating a system of economics not yet experienced. King Henry VIII was in a battle with the Roman Catholic Church to bestow an annulment on his marriage to first wife, Catherine of Aragon. He finally was able to achieve a divorce and went on to marry many more women. A man named Martin Luther, struggled with the teachings of the church in Germany, and the falsehoods that were being shared among the people, encouraging them to pay their way into heaven with money or good works. Luther was a resolute Catholic. In fact, he served as a monk, prayed incessantly and went to confession as often as he prayed. Even doing those things, weren’t enough. He felt destined for hell and believed he was on a fast track there, until he discovered the truth of the Gospel. He diligently read the Bible on a daily basis. As he searched through the scriptures, he stumbled on the book of Romans. Within the pages of this book, Luther discovered that out salvation had been bought and paid for by Jesus, through His crucifixion and resurrection. It is by grace that we have all been saved.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, ‘the righteous shall live by faith.”

Romans 1:16-17

We know that he went before the church with his grievances by posting a list of 95 potential assumptions challenging Roman Catholicism. Eventually there was a trial after Luther had been declared a heretic. He stood strong and courageously at his trial. He was firm in his convictions, stating that if the church would show him where he was wrong, He would relinquish his claim. If they could not, He said in his final argument, ”ย Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.” The statement encompassed his determination. Thus began a reformation that would be spread by many men, through many avenues, countries and denominations. The fight for truth, landed Luther in jail for an entire year. During that time, he translated the Bible from Latin into German. With the advent of the printing press, the Word of God would now be available to the common man – giving them the truth of God’s unconditional love and undeserved grace.

God’s Word is our great heritage.


โ€

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CARVING OUT A NEW FACE

It’s that time of year again. Buy at least one pumpkin, cut into the top of it, scoop out all the gunk and seeds, carve out a face, put a candle inside and set it by the front door. In some areas, carving pumpkins almost becomes an artistic event to see who can become the most creative. Some grow huge pumpkins that make it into the record books. Some folks like to roast the seeds for a homemade snack, while others will use the meat of the pumpkin to make pies or yummy pumpkin bars. When you drive through the countryside at this time of the year, you’re bound to see fields of pumpkins, untouched by human hands. There are little carts along the road where you can buy one or more of this interesting squash. You pick out your own and leave the payment in a coffee can.

Did you ever think of yourself as one of those orange orbs? I tend to think about weird things like that. Not because I have nothing else to do other than think about them, but because you can really take most any subject and turn it into a lesson. Our lives are kind of like those pumpkins.ย  There are times when things begin to rot inside of us.ย  We need to get the crud out.ย  We need to empty our innards of the confusion, anxiety, stress and daily responsibilities. We can scrape away at the surface things, but only God can get in there and really clean up the gobbledy gook that stagnates and causes decay within.ย  In this day and age, you can buy Styrofoam pumpkins already carved. They look good for a while, but eventually the elements of living, wash away the outer beauty and the grime within comes out with a vengeance.

So, what’s the lesson for today? Certainly not to think of yourself as a pumpkin, but to look not only at what you see on the outside, but how cleaning up the inside can make you even more beautiful. The truth is, if left to our own devices, there is no way we can get rid of every last bit of yuck. Only God can provide the freshness of unpolluted souls and make them spotless. Because of His great love for everyone, His grace is sufficient for all of us.

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IN THE GLOAMING

PHOTOGRAPH BY PAUL BOECHER, POETRY BY KATHY BOECHER

Our days go swiftly, like an early morning dawn,
They often pass so quickly, they pass and they are gone,
We turn each page anticipating,
We long for and are waiting,
For time to take us home,
We set our course on human need and soon are pushed aside,
But holding to God’s master plan, with Him we’ll soon abide,
The lakes will turn to ice,
The trees will sacrifice,
And winter now does loom,
The end of days, a time to pray, repenting of our sins,
We softly cast our cares on God, we know He always wins,
In times of stress or pain
We look to Him for gain,
New life beyond the tomb.

Some of you know how much I love the old musical movies. I could sit and watch the same movie over and over as a child and still do. The movie, “Brigadoon” was one of those song filled stories that touches the heart and soul. Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse danced beautifully in the gloaming of a beautiful pasture of heather. It was filled with mystery, romance, tragedy, lost love and memorable music. The story was based on a fictional tale of a town that only made an appearance once every hundred years. The townspeople didn’t age from the time the spell was cast upon them many years ago.

Yesterday, we chose to wander in the gloaming – in the comfort of our car. It was such a day as the one when Brigadoon would make its magical appearance. A heavy mist was in the air after days of necessary rain. It was noon when we began our journey. As we drove further into the countryside, the mist turned into a dense fog. We could not see more than half a mile into the distance. Still, the mystical air created a beauty we would never have seen otherwise. The road ahead was clouded. The trees still held tightly to their colorful foliage, but the signs of winter were becoming more apparent. Many of those trees were already stripped of their canopy. The evidence lay on the ground below.

As we passed some church cemeteries, there was an air of finality – a grim reminder of this temporary life. Even in that, we saw a magnificent glimpse of heaven, knowing that the end of life doesn’t expire when we take our final breath. Beyond the grave, there is eternal life for those who have faith in what Jesus has done to extend our lives into eternity. That is indeed the truth – not a fairy tale or a magical musical. Days will come and go, but roaming in the gloaming is one way to enjoy even the dark days of life, with hope of a future in paradise.

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SINGING & DANCING IN THE RAIN

For some reason, I’ve become kind of hung up on old barns and beautiful autumn color lately. Maybe it’s because of our special drives this year. Maybe it’s because the character that abounds in those rugged buildings that have seen better days. I think about those who tended the animals in those structures – who milked the cows – tossed hay into the stables – worked and almost lived in those edifices. It could be because I have a special love for this time of the year. The smells, sounds and sights arouse all my senses. Fresh apples, pumpkin spice and the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet.

For the past few days, we’ve had our share of rain in the area. Now those beautifully peaked colors will be disseminated into the earth to prepare it for the winter. For me,ย rain conjures up thoughts of God’s tears falling on us, either to wake us up or to calm and refresh us.ย ย ย I thinkย God cries when He sees all the evil that infests our world.ย  When wars erupt and nations fight against nations, the storms seem to increase. His heart must ache when someone denies His existence but imagine His joy when a lost lamb returns to the fold.

My mind goes back to a wonderful old movie – “Singing in the Rain.” I remember Gene Kelley dancing, splashing in puddles, all while being attached to his umbrella. I have dreamed about dancing like that – in the rain – with no pain in my knees and joy in my feet. I know that dream will come true someday. In the meantime, I will remember what benefits we gain when it rains. It makes my heart happy to think of what God does through all elements of the weather and the change of seasons. Even when winter finally comes and death is near, He is with us through every storm.

What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again!

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MAKING ART . . .

My husband is an avid wood carver. His love for chiseling on a chunk of wood probably dates back to his younger years, sitting around a campfire and whittling. He made a living doing wood sculptures for restaurants, individual residences and lake homes. He was once commissioned to create a mermaid mast head for a restaurant here in Minneapolis. NSince today is “International Artist Day,” I thought about all the art he has created in his lifetime. It has been a gift, not only to those who own a piece of his art, but also for our family. Paul has given that creative part of himself to his children and grandchildren. His work has also inspired many poems from me.

It was somewhere around 1978 when a contest was held in our community by a local vendor of wooden art pieces. When he found out about the contest, Paul decided to introduce our three kids to the art of whittling. Each of them had a piece to start with. They chiseled away at the wood, engraving feathers and other features into the duck decoys. As they worked, I could see a bond growing between them as well. With each mark made into the wood, there would be conversation, laughter and learning for all of them. I sat along with them, with a small knife, pushing away wood from a stick to create my version of art. Unfortunately, the only thing I produced were blisters, invading slivers and calloused fingers. I did enjoy the family time, however. I believe each of our three children came away with an actual prize in that contest. They were thrilled with the results. Paul’s reward came in the form of earned respect, building a bond with his family and stirring their creative juices.

Each of us has talents and gifts, given to us by our Creator. Some are great musicians, singers, dancers, writers, fine artists, actors. Some have been gifted with great minds and intellect. Some have the talent to encourage others, inspire them and lead. Some don’t even know that a talent may be lying dormant within them. As we pay special attention to artists today, let’s remember that the One who created life from the start, still provides each of us with special gifts. It’s up to us to nurture and use those gifts to help others and bring joy to their lives.

โ€œArt washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.โ€ โ€“ย Pablo Picasso

โ€œI saw the angel in the marble and carved until i set him free.โ€ โ€“ย Michelangelo

โ€œWhere the spirit does not work with the hand, there is no art.โ€ โ€“ย Leonardo da Vinci

โ€œIf you hear a voice within you say โ€˜you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.โ€ โ€“ย Vincent van Gogh

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SISTER

My sister came into this world almost five years after I had established myself as the number one grandchild on both sides of the family.ย  I was the chief kingpin and I was not about to let her take over my place in the hierarchy.ย  When we were children, I was the most politically incorrect of all big sisters.ย  I made her sit on the back of the bus.ย  I convinced her, that when we washed dishes, all she had to do was the silverware – which included anything silver,ย like the caked on, food encrusted kettles and cooking utensils.ย  I’d take care of the glasses and plates.ย  I purposely ignored her when my friends came over and she wanted to join in.ย  We fought constantly and even more intensely as I entered puberty.ย  Once we bothย ventured out of the security of the nest, we realized how important we were to each other.

Our mother gave us the gift of laughter and that has carried us through most of life’s challenges and adventures.ย  Through the years, I watched as she struggled to have children, while I was already raising three of them.ย  I saw her grow into an independent woman, even in those times.ย  Her husband started a franchise business and she worked alongside him, until one day she decided to go on strike.ย  There she was, outside her husband’s business, with a picket sign.ย  All my bullying must’ve made her stronger.ย  OK, I won’t take credit for that.ย  We both had early experiences with death as our mother’s side of the family seemed to be dropping like flies during our childhood.ย  We learned how to weep over loss and still maintain the dignity of carrying on in adversity.ย  Mom and dad made sure we had a spiritual base.ย  Laughter, strength, hope and faith in God, all played an important part in our upbringing.

As the years advance, we grow even closer together. Our homes are in different states, but our thoughts and prayers for each other continue now for our husbands, for facing the aging process, for strength to get through it all and the wisdom to know how to handle it. God bless you, my dear sister. You will always be my best friend in the whole wide world.

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FINAL DAYS OF OCTOBER

“October is the month of painted leaves.
Their rich glow now flashes round the world.
As fruits and leaves and the day itself
acquire a bright tint just before they fall,
so the year near its setting.
October is its sunset sky;
November the later twilight.” Henry David Thoreau

This most majestic month, when God pulls out all the stops, filling the air with smells of burning leaves, pumpkin spice, harvested corn. Where fresh apple pies are on the menu. Where colors of many shades of gold, red and rust invade the forests and landscapes. Where summer melts into bales of hay in the field – squirrels and other critters forage for their winter sustenance – marshmallows are roasted over an open fire – hay wagons pull carts of people instead of hay, as they snuggle into flannel shirts. This month has been one of searching for us. As we took our little drives through the country roads around us, we were allowed to retreat from life as we knew it – even for a little while. We will continue to fill our days with positive thoughts and prayers.

In October, we celebrate the harvest. We purchase fresh pumpkins and apples. October Festivals are held for just about every reason. We have holidays for almost every day of the month, including Breast Cancer Awareness, Down Syndrome Awareness, Black Cat Awareness and Substance Abuse Awareness. It’s the spooky time of the year when ghosts and goblins supposedly roam the earth, scaring everyone. Maybe we’ll have more than one trick or treater this year. October is the month of Halloween. It is also the time when Protestants celebrate the reformation of the church in Martin Luther’s day. My sister has a birthday and so did my son-in-law.

Most importantly, this month indicates the changing of seasons. Autumn is our most glorious time of the year. With the range of God’s palette, we are treated to all kinds of beauty. It is the epitome of the year. It also signals the coming of winter. Life is like that too. Each season has its own beauty and majesty. The green, fresh sprouting of new life comes in spring. Summer brings warmth and rain to make things grow. Autumn is a time of reflection and winter ends it all, with her frozen air, her dancing snowflakes, her frost upon the windowpanes. Each one is filled with beauty. Each one has a purpose. Every human life is the same. Each is filled with beauty. Each has a purpose. We are all unique.

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MY QUIET PLACE

ART & INSPIRATION BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

This time of year, used to be reserved for hunting deer, squirrel, pheasants. I remember coming home one day to find recently besieged and already rigamortised pheasants staring at me from the refrigerator. We quickly put an end to that. Soon hunting became more of an escape to his happy place. Even though there was an occasional loss to the deer population, Paul found pleasure in absorbing as much of God’s creation that he could. He’d experience little chickadees landing on his shoulders. He witnessed deer munching on acorns just a few feet away from him. A majestic eagle would soar above, surveying his next meal. The sounds, smells and touch of being in the outdoors has since become one of his favorite spots.

We all desire a quiet place – a place made just for us. It can be the peaceful beauty of a flower garden, where the only sounds are birds chirping and singing their messages to other birds. It can be the serene humming of a bee as it pollenates each ripe bloom. It can be the hum of a tractor or a combine as the fields of summer are harvested. It could be the vision of an old run down barn or a newly built one. It might be a place that doesn’t even exist.

My quiet place is often a creation I make within the deepest parts of my mind. My imagination carries me over raging seas into a blissful paradise. A kaleidoscope of tiny fragments of memories creates delightful patterns on the ceiling. Soft, muted lights with shadows of intricately woven lace are pressed into the wall. Colors are blurred and brush strokes swirl them into a quiet energy. This energy revitalizes, restores and renews. All of it is created by a loving Father who uses His strength to bring peace. This is my quiet place – the place where comfort abounds and chaos takes a long vacation.

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THE LAST HURRAH

ORIGINALย ART & POETRY BY KATHY BOECHERยฉ

The flowers shout their last hurrah, they cling to hidden light,

They go to sleep and hide their heads, when day turns into night,

With wild anticipation then, they hope they will survive,

Theย wicked days of autumn’s grip stillย keeps them now alive,

Each morning gives them new desire, to live again that day,

As morning mist caresses them and sends them on their way,

Soon summer will turn chilly, the days grow shorter still,

The life is sapped from growing things, as fall retrieves each will,

Like us those flowers soon will die, but life is never lost,

It will return in springtime morns,ย arisen from the frost,

We too will come back into life, once all our breath is spent,

As Jesus rose from death’s strong hold, we will reach our ascent.

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