Across the Border(s)

September brings with it an increase in my weekly commitments.  It is when our church begins their Wednesday night outreach to the kids in our community, with my duty being teaching the youngest group of children.  Along with the help of my husband's cousin, we teach Bible stories in a fun and creative way through the use of puppets, song, and hands-on activities.

The other weekly commitment which surfaces in September is our Tuesday night practices for two Christmas Concerts held on the first weekend in December.  What makes our chorus extra special is the fact it is made up of singers from two sides of the northern border of the United States.  Our small town is located, just 5 miles from the Canadian border, although getting across the border takes a bit longer, as it is necessary to first get to the nearest border crossing, which is 22 miles away.

This year, we have seen an increase in the size of our chorus from both sides of the border, which is quite exciting.  The average size over the past few years has been 45-50 singers, but this year our head count is already up to 60.  Tonight we had an added bonus, as one of those who came was a man who is actually from South Africa.  He has been working for an area farmer since earlier this spring, and decided he wanted to be part of our group.  Our international chorus, just got even more diverse!

It is fun to hear the voices blend as we learn the music in the chapel of our Lutheran Church.  When the current church was built, the altar setting from the prior church was preserved and placed in this chapel in memory of the pioneers who started the church.  It is a place which always warms my heart, as it was in front of this altar my parents said their wedding vows.

What a blessing to form friendships across the border. . .and now borders!  It is also wonderful to hear so many using their God-given musical talents to proclaim the Christmas message, a message of Christ come to earth.  The theme of this year's concert is "A Star is Born." and it's not too late to join us if you are interested.  Just show up at Concordia Lutheran Church in Crosby, ND at 7pm on Tuesday evenings between now and December 3.

As my thoughts focus on "borders" tonight, we can also be so thankful Jesus was willing to cross the border from heaven to earth to become Emmanuel, God with us.  His sinless life here on earth sets an example each of us should strive to follow.  His death on the cross, and resurrection three days later then made it possible for us to receive the forgiveness needed to inherit eternal life, a journey from this finite life to one of life eternal.

Today, I came across a picture of a statue depicting the moment one steps through death's door, which is our boundary between earth and heaven.  Originally sculpted by a man named Jerry Anderson, it was unveiled in the year 2000.  Today, this life-sized bronze monument is found in the foyer of the Spilsbury Mortuary in St. George Utah.  You see an elderly woman's body return to its prime, as it journeys to the arms of a waiting Savior.

As you ponder this statue, also take time to ponder your own relationship with Jesus.  He wants each of us to know Him in a personal way, and longs to hear from us through the avenue of prayer.  The jailer in Acts 16 once asked Paul and Silas, "What must I do to be saved?"  The answer then still holds true today:

"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,

and you will be saved."

Acts 16:31

   

A Grand Lady!

Circumstances of life left me with only one grandparent I actually grew up knowing.  My paternal grandmother died of cancer before my parents were married, and I was only two years old when my paternal grandfather passed away, so I have no memory of him.  My maternal grandfather died of blood poisoning when my mother was only eleven, leaving my maternal grandmother alone to raise their four children.

Some may say I got gypped having only one grandparent.  Instead, I feel it gave me the opportunity to know her in a more intimate way, since she was the only one.  Special isn't an adequate word when trying to describer her.  Blessed we were to have her here on earth until God took her home one month after her 100th birthday.

She came to the United States from Norway when she was only four years old, and settled in Minnesota.  From there, she moved with her husband to the plains of North Dakota where they homesteaded in Frederick Township, just south of my hometown of Crosby, ND.

Early memories of my life include many visits to Grandma Ellen's farm.  It still amazes me when I look at the early pictures of the farm, void of any trees, and compare them to the beautiful yard she transformed it into.  Just last week I was telling my own granddaughter about her farm, describing the trees all around the house, interspersed with flower gardens, a vegetable garden, and a strawberry patch.  An opening on one side led to the orchard she developed,  and in the corner was a quaint little spot we called "the three bear's house," complete with three stumps and a log to use when bringing the story to life.

She didn't have an easy life, and experienced a lot of sadness.  Besides losing her husband, she also lost a daughter five years later to a heart defect.  She would go on to bury two more of her children over the course of her lifetime.  She was given many opportunities to become bitter and angry with the circumstances she found herself in.  Instead, she apparently had learned well from her own mother, who gave the following as her mantra at the age of 100:

Keep calm,

 take everything as it comes, 

work hard, 

and stay close to God 

Grandma Ellen was a friend to all, and never spoke ill of anyone, that I can remember.  She was a model of grace and humility, and lived out the fruit of the Spirit as an example to all who knew her.  Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self control pretty much sum up the kind of life she lived.  Her own advice at 100 was to "Read the Word, and stick to it!"  How blessed I am, and so much richer because of her influence in my life!

"Happy Grandparents Day, Grandma Ellen!" 

     

The Hands That Shaped My World

For a short time each summer we are blessed with Elberta peaches.  They come in crates, and disappear from the grocery store fast, once the word gets out they have arrived.  We usually get at least one crate, and eat most of them fresh, saving just enough to make one of my mother's yummy peach pies.

With our hometown's location so close to the Canadian border, there is a broader scope of people watching for the arrival of these scrumptious peaches.  This year, before I had even heard the peaches had arrived, the entire shipment had disappeared. According to the locals, one pickup with a foreign license plate was seen transporting 19 crates back to Canada.  To me, this is just not fair!  Thankfully, my husband's cousin (who works at the grocery store) had snatched up a crate, and offered part of her box to me.

So it was, a dozen juicy peaches were stashed away in our refrigerator, while we ventured off to Alaska on vacation. . .and then to a funeral in Minnesota. . .and then to a doctor appointment and Legislative meeting in Bismarck.  Needless to say, I wondered if the peaches would even be good by the time life slowed down enough to think about baking pie.

Friday was my birthday, and I decided to take the morning and invest it into making this year's pie.  Out came the rolling pin, pastry board, and ingredients for making pie dough.  The recipes are written across the page from one another. . .one for "Peach Pie," and the other for "Never Fail Pie Crust."  Both are in my mother's handwriting, and just seeing her neat penmanship brought a smile to my face.

After preparing the pie dough, I rolled out a circle for the bottom crust.  Carefully, I rolled the round piece over the rolling pin, and then transferred it onto the pie plate.  As I gently eased the dough into the pan, I looked down and saw not my own hands, but those of my mother.  How many times had she carefully prepared pie crusts to treat our family or friends?  Countless times, for sure, and somehow in my mind's eye, her crusts always turned out so perfect.  I found myself thanking God for those precious hands that did so much to shape my world.

The next step was cutting up the peaches, followed by preparing the filling mixture.  Sour cream, brown sugar, a pinch of salt, and some vanilla whisked together make for a scrumptious coating to pour over the peaches.  A whiff of the vanilla from the bottle, and I felt my mother's presence near!

Finally, the top crust was rolled out, cutting in the outline of a peach to allow the pie to vent while baking.  Although I can make my crust look like my mom's prior to going into the oven, it seems it always "poofs up" while baking.  It would be so nice if I could call her up, and ask for some pointers.  Instead, I think of her fondly and wish I would have paid more attention while she was still living here on earth!

With the remaining dough and peaches, I was able to make five small pies for sharing, as well as some of the fun cinnamon crust sticks Mom always made.  

Just as I was finishing up with the small pies, a familiar sound came from outside the kitchen.  Someone was flying an airplane over town, and instantly my mind transferred to another pair of hands that shaped my world.  Hands that flew airplanes, and drove tractors, trucks, and combines.  Yes, my father's hands were most often busy outside our home, but just as much they influenced the person I came to be.

Often I ponder why it was God blessed me with such a wonderful childhood, and parents who instilled in me a faith which has carried me through the years.  Perhaps I will cut me a slice of pie, and ponder on!

"Thank You, Lord, for the blessing of Godly parents

who loved me, and shaped my life into

one which centers on YOU"

The Heavens Declare!

What a day it has been!  We left home bright and early at 7am, headed down the highway to Bismarck, where I had a doctor appointment scheduled.  By chance, we discovered some of our good friends from the ND Legislature were also in town, so we met them for lunch at the Capitol.  It was fun to catch up, and enjoy a time of sweet fellowship.

Since a Legislative meeting was on the schedule for Wednesday, we had two choices.  We could either make the 4 hour trek to back to Crosby, and return in two days, or we could find something to keep us occupied until then.

With my birthday coming up in a few days, one option was to head west to the wonderful, little community of Medora, ND.  It would be only half the drive, and we could take in the musical at their outdoor amphitheatre.  It is something we try to do each summer, and to this point had not found the time.  The decision was made, and down the road we ventured

What I was not expecting was the variety of “sky scenes” we would experience over the course of the evening.  Psalm 19:1 tells us,

“The heavens declare the glory of God; 

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”

With this being the case, God outdid Himself over the course of a few hours time.  There were times when I wondered if “the show would go on,” with the threat of rain looming often, and more than once a round of sprinkles.  As it turned out, the show started about fifteen minutes late, and a good time was had by all (or at least the two in our party!)

Here are some pictures to allow you to share in God’s handiwork for the day!

Changes on the Horizon

After riding along with my husband to his brother's house, I opted to walk back home while he stayed for a longer visit.  It was a beautiful evening, with a few wispy clouds dancing in the blue sky.  I could almost imagine them as angels hanging out over Crosby, ND.

As I made my way down Main Street, another thought crossed my mind.  There will soon be a change in the skyline of Crosby.  A grain elevator which has served our area farmers over the course of my lifetime will soon be coming down.  Although I am not sure of the exact date it was built, I know it was in existence when I was a little girl, tagging along with my farmer father to bring in grain samples.

The highlight of those visits was getting an orange pop from the machine. . .one of those where you slide the bottle from its hanging storage to the mechanism which allowed you to pull it out once the proper amount of money was deposited.  I also remember watching as grain was swallowed up when exiting the trucks, making its way into storage.  I can still hear the swishing sound it made, and imagine the smell of the grain.  With my allergies, it is possible I didn't tag along very often.  Could it be a single visit impacted my memory banks enough to make it seem like just yesterday, instead of the decades it has been?

Over time, new elevators have been built, and this particular one has become obsolete.  Since it is no longer operational, a decision has been made to clear the spot.  Not so long ago, we watched as another iconic piece of Crosby skyline was removed.  With a new water tower built on the northwest corner of town, the old one was dismantled, and things just didn't seem right for a time.  Having now adjusted to one hole in the once familiar view, soon it will be time to change our focus once again.






As time passes, there is generally only one constant in life, and that is change.  What once was, will eventually be no more, and the path is laid for new adventures waiting down the road.  Part of me would like to once again be that little girl watching wide-eyed with wonder as her daddy took her through the world of a grain elevator.  Instead, it will be a grown up me watching as another piece of Crosby history is removed from our horizon.

It's nice to know there is one building which has stood the test of time. . .over 100 years now. . .our beautiful Courthouse at the north end of Main Street.  Even when it came time to expand with the new addition, they were able to preserve the historical view which speaks of "home" each time I see it.

Our lives, like the city of Crosby, have changing horizons from time to time.  As a student of God's Word, it is apparent through the pages of history kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall.  Yet there is a constant which has stood the test of time.  In Isaiah 40:8, we read even if the grass withers and the flowers fall, the Word of our God will stand forever.  

Psalm 119 is the longest chapter in the Bible.  It has much to say about the importance of God's Word, and nestled right in the middle is verse 89:

Your Word, O Lord is eternal;

it stands firm in the heavens.

Firm and eternal are good words to cling to when things start falling apart in our world.  It is so good to remember God is our constant in the midst of all change. 

  

"Can You Hear Me?"

Today started out on the gloomy side. . .a sprinkling of rain, and cloudiness which made it hard for me to get motivated.  It has been on my mind for quite some time to get back into a regular routine of blogging, but, for whatever reason, it hasn't happened.  Time which could be used blogging instead gets eaten up scrolling through Facebook.  While doing so this morning, God planted this on my news feed:

It was like God was speaking directly to my heart.  "Can you hear Me now as I interrupt your scroll time? Don't feel like you have to create some grand plan on how you could get back into blogging.  Just start by writing one for Me today."  And so I did. . .along with this bonus post explaining why it happened!  

One of the special gifts God has given me in life is the ability to write.  I do feel it is a means by which He desires to use me in getting His message out into the world.  Hopefully I can do better in the days to come.    

"Well Done"

August has been very busy in my world.  A week and a half of vacation brought us to Seattle, by way of Denver, and treated us to an Inside Passage Alaskan Cruise with our Acappella singing friends.  It was glorious, and some wonderful quality time with my hubby.

The next week and a half was spent trying to get back into the swing of things. . .the usual laundry to catch up on, garden and flowers to tend, and simply trying to remember I didn't have to sway back and forth when standing still!

While away, we learned of two deaths in our extended family.  The first was my husband's cousin, and we were so sad to miss out on the family time leading up to and following her service.  The other was his great aunt, the last of the siblings of his maternal grandfather's family.  Her family opted to delay the funeral a couple of weeks to make it easier for family members to attend both the funeral and the upcoming wedding of one of her grandsons.

Although we will not be at the wedding this weekend, we did take time out of our week to drive to Fergus Falls, MN for MaeBelle's funeral.  We knew her as "Mamie" and were so blessed to have known her.  She was only six years older than her oldest niece, who just happens to be my mother-in-law.

Memory fades as to when I first met Mamie, but it likely was either at a time she was visiting her brother in Crosby, ND or at one of the many family reunions planned by their family over the years.  There were originally six siblings in the family, four brothers & two sisters.  The other sister lost her battle with cancer at a young age, making the others even more committed to staying close despite the many miles which separated their families.

Off the top of my head, I can think of three of these reunions we took part in. . .one on Lake Okaboji in Iowa, one in Omaha, Nebraska, and one in Colorado Springs, CO.  There was always an abundance of laughter, music, and playing of the card game, ROOK.  In later years, after the brothers had all passed on, we would take time in our travels to visit Mamie in her winter home of Tucson, AZ.  Our last visit with her took place a couple of years ago in her home in Fergus Falls, MN.

Her family was able to provide her with a wonderful send off.  Grandchildren shared memories and the song, "I Will Rise", spouses of her four children shared the Scripture readings, and the message was given by a son-in-law who is a pastor.  He talked about the qualities of inclusion, love, and community as they related to her life, and encouraged us to follow her cardinal rule of life, which was to simply be nice (or kind).  

As a final tribute, her three daughters and one son gathered behind their mother's casket to share the song, "Well Done", which was released last fall by a group know as "The Afters".  The words couldn't have been more fitting to honor her life, and they fit equally well to honor the passing of my husband's cousin.  May we all strive to work towards hearing these words when we reach our heavenly home:

What will it be like when my pain is gone

And all the worries of this world just fade away?

What will it be like when You call my name

And that moment when I see You face to face?

I'm waiting my whole life to hear You say

Well done, well done

My good and faithful one

Welcome to the place where you belong

Well done, well done

My beloved child

You have run the race and now you're home

Welcome to the place where you belong

What will it be like when tears are washed away

And every broken thing will finally be made whole?

What will it be like when I come into Your glory

Standing in the presence of a love so beautiful?

I'm waiting my whole life for that day

I will live my life to hear You say

Well done, well done

My good and faithful one

Welcome to the place where you belong

Well done, well done

My beloved child

You have run the race and now you're home

Welcome to the place where you belong

What will it be like when I hear that sound?

All of heaven's angels crying out:

Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord

Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord

Singing holy, holy, holy are You, Lord

Waiting my whole life for that day

Until then I'll live to hear You say

Well done, well done

My good and faithful one

Welcome to the place where you belong

Well done, well done

My beloved child

You have run the race and now you're home

Welcome to the place where you belong

Well done