Faith and the Night Sky

October 15 - my first attempt at taking a photo of the visiting comet

Not long ago, I saw a devotional that suggested we read a passage of the Bible and then try to figure out who in the story most resonates with us.

Am I most like the Samaritan woman? Or am I one of the ones in the crowd, judging her? That will stop you in your tracks, right?

And poor Thomas. Say the name Thomas and ask how that disciple fits into Jesus' resurrection story, and the first thing we do is add a derogatory adjective to it. It's not simply Thomas. But Doubting Thomas.

I must admit that as Randy and I searched the western skies for the Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS, I might have that same "Doubting" adjective attached to my name. 

From a Facebook post

Try as we might, we couldn't find it - not with our naked eyes. Not with Randy's binoculars. Not even with my iPhone, which everyone said was the easier way to find it. However, when we went back inside and I did the inevitable scrolling through Facebook, it appeared that others had figured out the "secret formula." They got photos of the comet. 

If we'd relied only on our naked eye, the same could have been said for the Northern Lights.

October 10, 2024

On October 10, news stations were saying that Kansans might again have the opportunity to see the Northern Lights because of solar storms. We had made a similar excursion in May. I thought maybe that had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but I was glad for another chance. 

Just like in May, we struggled to see the Northern Lights with our naked eye. But when I looked through my iPhone, the camera's eye was able to see what I couldn't. (Interestingly, Randy's Android phone didn't provide that view.)

It reminded me of the poem, "Who Has Seen the Wind?" by Christina Rossetti.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by. 

Just like the wind that's "invisible" unless it's stirring the leaves (or unprotected fallow farm ground), the lights weren't visible without some help. 

As we stood in the cool fall night, I thought again about how that was a metaphor for faith. 

Hebrews 11 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. ² This is what the ancients were commended for.³ By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

Following those initial verses, there is a whole chapter of familiar Bible names and the ways they carried out their faith.  

The New Century translation says it this way:

Faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it.” 

 Hebrews 11:1 (NCV)

What is faith? Faith is believing when you can’t see it. People say, “Seeing is believing.” God says the exact opposite: “Believing is seeing.” Some things you’ll never see unless you believe them first. Every great achievement started when someone first believed it was possible. Faith turns dreams into realities. Nothing happens until someone first believes it’s possible.

We went out a couple of different times and a couple of different locations. The light patterns moved somewhat from the first time we looked to the second time. 

And there was a scientific explanation for why were were able to see the Northern Lights so far south. (Again, count on Facebook to help a girl out.)

 

Still ... as we stood in the dark with a kaleidoscope of color overhead, I couldn't help but think about just how fortunate we are to see the beauty in God's Creation - that we are able to witness "the universe  formed at God’s command." 

An update: 

We tried again to find the comet after seeing a graphic about where to look in the night sky on specific days and Googling information on changing my iPhone settings. 

It's still not an award-winning photo, but we did get to see it.

October 16, 2024

We got a little chilly. In January, we'll think that 50 degrees feels balmy, but our bodies haven't quite made the shift from summer temperatures to the autumn cooling. So once we found the comet and its tail and I "sorta-kinda" got a photo, we were ready to head back inside.

I was glad to witness it after a recent reminder from an email devotional:

A Time to Think

The simple act of stopping and looking at the beauty around us can be prayer.

-- Patricia Barrett, author

 

A Time to Act

 

Today notice the little things that make your day special.

 

A Time to Pray

Thank you Lord, that however small or seemingly insignificant our gifts, You can weave them into Your glorious symphony.   

Balcony Person: Thoughts Before Church Conference

The view from the balcony - Pratt First United Methodist Church

 (Photo from the church's Facebook page)

I spent a lot of my teen Sundays in the balcony at Pratt First United Methodist Church. When I was a sophomore in high school, our family transferred from the tiny Byers UMC just 3 1/2 miles from our farm home to the "big city" church in Pratt, 15 minutes away.

Even as a child, I wasn't a big fan of change. I don't specifically remember the first Sunday, as my sister Lisa and I walked into the high school Sunday School room just off the balcony. It's likely I trudged in with a fair amount of trepidation and worry, along with a nervous smile. Most of the other kids in the class went to Pratt to school. We were students at Skyline, a rural consolidation just west of Pratt. So it was a sea of unfamiliar faces. But in that room was the man who would become our Sunday School teacher, Carter Barker.

He was (is) a farmer and used equipment salesman. In some ways, with his barrel chest and no-nonsense voice, he reminded me of my Grandpa Neelly. Each week, he used the Guideposts magazine and taught us some real-life lesson about overcoming adversity, building character and bolstering faith in the real world.

After Sunday School, our family sat on the right-hand side of the balcony during the worship service. Carter and his wife, Marj, did, too. And Carter became as much a part of the church experience for me as singing "How Great Thou Art" for the hundredth time or repeating The Lord's Prayer.

This winter, I saved an email devotional that arrived one morning from the Great Plains UMC Conference. The devotional, written by Jeanie Leeper, Prairie Rivers District Director of Lay Servant Ministries, talked about recalling the "balcony people" in your life and writing them a note of thanks.

"Balcony people" are described as those who cheer you on and help you find your potential and calling in Christ. These people may see things in us that we aren't able to see ourselves.

Parents are designed to be "balcony people," and I was fortunate to have parents and grandparents who did that for me. But having someone who doesn't "have to" care about you is just a little bit different. Carter came to ballgames and 4-H fairs. He cared about me - even when he didn't have to.

The west balcony at Stafford UMC  is behind the rail in this photo.That's where Melvin & Marie used to sit.

Randy and I got married in the Pratt UMC. After establishing our own household, I continued my parents' tradition of mailing photo Christmas cards, and Carter and Marj are on our list. They kept up with our children with the yearly photo and even remembered them by name. Years ago, Carter gave them a wooden fence for playing "farm." Our granddaughters have played with that fence, so the gift keeps on giving. And even now, I look forward to deciphering Carter's handwritten note at Christmastime.

Carter was definitely one of my "balcony people" - both literally and figuratively. I had other cheerleaders - voice teachers Mrs. Cunningham and Mrs. Bolan, science teacher Larry Sittner, 4-H agent Jean Clarkson and a myriad of others who made a difference in my life. 

From the balcony at Stafford UMC

My connections to church balconies didn't quit when I left Pratt UMC. My late in-laws sat in the west balcony at Stafford UMC. I always found it ironic that both Randy and I had "grown up in a church balcony," so to speak. Melvin and Marie became my cheerleaders and cheerleaders for Jill and Brent, too, though I wish we'd had them around for many more years.

The view from Melvin & Marie's angle in the balcony

But then the  devotional asked, "Are you a “balcony person?”

I hope I am. I try to be.

“The heart of leader development is having a vision beyond what you actually see when you look at someone and believing in someone else even more than he believes in himself. It is to see beyond the actual to the potential, not just seeing who a person is but who she can become.”

Lay Servant Ministry handbook, United Methodist Church

 

Jill & Eric's wedding - Taken from the south balcony - August 2009. 

They had lots of "balcony people" at their ceremony.

This week, I'm our church's laity representative at the Great Plains UMC annual conference. It begins today in Topeka. United Methodist churches from all over Kansas and Nebraska will send their ministers and lay persons to represent them.

While at the conference, we'll be doing the business of the church and hearing about its ministries. We'll also be electing our delegates to the 2020 General Conference - a gathering of the global United Methodist Church set for next year in Minnesota. As I've studied the applications of those lay persons who want to represent the Great Plains, I've been circling phrases and trying to come up with a cross-section of people who will best serve our conference on an even bigger stage. For my vote, I've tried to pick people from different regions, from rural and urban churches, men and women, the young and the not-so-young.

As a lay member of annual conference, I can't vote on the clergy candidates, but I've read through a number of their applications, too. Some of them seem ready to "give up" on the UMC and divide into two or more branches. I hope that mindset does not win out.

I want delegates who'll be our "balcony people." But even more, I want them to be "balcony people" for the future of the United Methodist Church, to find a way to work together, to hear each other in disagreement and find a way for the church to have a renaissance. May the Great Plains find those people during this time of Annual Conference, May 29 through June 1.

 Who are your balcony people? And how can you be a balcony person for someone else?

The Prayer Jesus Taught Us

At church, I've been hearing a sweet little voice behind me recite the words to The Lord's Prayer. The higher-pitched voice joins the chorus of adult voices and, for me, has added a whole new dimension to the unison recitation of "the prayer Jesus taught us."

We recite it together every week during our worship service at Stafford United Methodist Church.  It's one of those things that - if we're honest - we may even say by rote, not even thinking about the words and what they mean.

Byers United Methodist Church, Pratt County, my childhood church

I've been going to church since my parents carried me through the doors of the Byers United Methodist Church more years ago than I like to admit.  I don't remember intentionally learning the words to The Lord's Prayer. Perhaps I did, but it's also possible that I learned them vicariously while sitting in a pew marked with my ancestors' names, and hearing them repeated, week after week.

Byers United Methodist Church

For that young worshiper, learning something new forces her to concentrate, to think about the words that are so familiar to the rest of us.  My friend, Debora, helped me to look at The Lord's Prayer in a new way, too. At church, Debora's mom handed me a 14-day devotional, "Praying The Lord's Prayer at Noon" (Prayer Point Press, 2015) and told me that Deborah thought I might like to read it. (Deborah is from Stafford, but now lives out of state. We keep in touch on Facebook and when she comes to visit her mom.)

The devotional is written by Dr. Terry Teykl, a United Methodist pastor in Texas who also works with a Christian radio station, KSBJ. He proposed praying The Lord's Prayer at noon daily, calling it "Pray Down at High Noon."

Stained glass in the Via Christi, St. Francis, chapel. Taken when we visited a friend in the hospital in April.

In the devotional, Teykl says:

"It's a challenging time to be the Church of Jesus Christ. There are a lot of things that we, as Christians, don't agree on. But one thing we can do is offer the prayer Jesus taught us to pray back to God in humility and unity. The brief passage, roughly 21 seconds when spoke, is simple enough to be prayed by children, yet rich enough to have fueled volumes of literature. It was Jesus' instruction to His disciples, and, as a result, it holds a sacred place across many denominations. Maybe it can be a gathering point where we can lay down our own personal or political agendas and simply ask God to come."

The Lord's Prayer covers it all, Teykl asserts, "large things, small things, material things, spiritual things, inward things and outward things."

Stained glass at the Via Christi, St. Francis, Chapel of the Sorrowful Mother

In the devotional, Tekyl breaks down The Lord's Prayer's phrases and creates a two-page reflection for each of the 14 days. He also includes a different Biblical translation of the familiar prayer each day.

It is believed that the early Christians regularly spoke The Lord’s Prayer at morning, noon, and night.

Would the world change if we committed to this simple plan ... praying The Lord's Prayer each day at noon? Maybe. Maybe not. But maybe the thing it would change is me. It might be worth planting the seed and seeing what happens.

Via Chrsti, St. Francis, Chapel of the Sorrowful Mother

"Imagine the Body of Christ praying The Lord’s Prayer all around the world. As it becomes noon in each time zone, our sisters and brothers will be praying for God’s Kingdom to come and God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven." 

Larry Bauman,

Ardmore UMC District superintendent

Maybe I need to approach it with child-like wonder, like that little voice behind me in the church pew.

Sisters of St. Joseph Motherhouse, Concordia, Kansas

 

Thankful

Sunrise, November 18, 2015

A Time to Think

A grateful heart is one that finds 
the countless blessings of God 
in the seemingly mundane everyday life. 
–Anonymous

A Time to Act

Thank the Lord for the possibilities of a new day.

 Portion in blue from an email devotional from Guideposts

"Just tell me if you need to stop."

My Farmer said the words as we were driving toward the cattle lots to round up cattle before the veterinarian arrived. We had just left home, so his solicitous remarks weren't aimed at an emergency bathroom break or the need to stop to stretch my legs during a long journey.

He looked at the eastern sky. He looked at me. And he knew that the beauty stretched across the horizon would have me itching to push the camera's shutter button.

I waited a beat. And I said, "Yes, I think I do need to stop."

So, less than a half mile from home, he pulled over so that I could capture a moment ... even though we had things to do and places to be.

I am blessed.

It was the second day of running cows through the working chute for pregnancy checks and vaccination updates.

 

On that day, the lot was sloppy with mud and manure after a total of 0.95" of rain had fallen. It may not have been ideal on tennis shoes, but it was great for a thirsty wheat crop. 

 

It was a chillier day than the first go-round, and the wind cut through layers of t-shirts, sweatshirts and gloves. But the cold temperatures made the cattle's breath look like mini rainbows through the camera lens. 

 As we ushered the cattle down the lane and into the chute, a chorus of geese sang a serenade.

Pelicans kept circling overhead, bucking the chilly breeze and coming back around as they left from their overnight stay at Quivira National Wildlife Refuge just down the road and searched for leftovers in nearby corn and milo stubble.


We didn't have any cattle jump a fence. The majority of the mama cows were pregnant. No humans or animals were hurt. We got the "ladies" where they needed to be.

 

It was a good day all around.

And it ended just like it began. This time, I was pointing the camera to the west, capturing another expansive Kansas sky.

There's a theme in the devotional reading material by my recliner these days. I've pulled out Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts," a book I've read and re-read three times. (I've shared quotes from that book here several times before - here and here among them.)

I borrowed "The Gratitude Diaries" by Janice Kaplan from the library, and I'm about halfway through it. The subtitle is "How A Year Looking on the Bright Side Can Transform Your Life." And, earlier this year, I ordered the book, "Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers" by Anne Lamott. I have several little green Post-It tabs stuck in the margins of that book, too.

"The notion of gratitude cuts across all generations, ethnicities and social or economic boundaries. Gratitude is universal, and it's the one thing that can pull us together."

 Doug Conant, Former CEO of Campbell's Soup Co.

Interviewed by Janice Kaplan 

Sunset, November 18, 2015

Do I practice gratefulness always? I admit that I struggle some days more than others. But, on this eve of Thanksgiving and as we approach another Advent season, it is a worthy goal, don't you think?

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! May we all be thankful.

A Time to Pray

O Great Creator, may I see Your hand today
in something ordinary and amazing.

Cloud of Witnesses

Almost 90 years ago, the parishioners at Stafford Methodist Church began building a church. It was different than other churches of its time. There was no church steeple, and, from the outside, naysayers thought it looked more like a school or auditorium than a house of worship.

But, build it, they did. Parishioners brought their teams of horses to dig out the basement. The more handy among them laid forms and started pouring in concrete for the 18 steps that would lead to a new sanctuary, a design patterned after Unity Temple in suburban Chicago by a student of Architect Frank Lloyd Wright.

 

The building was the third for Stafford Methodists. The first frame church was followed by a second structure that the congregation had outgrown.

"When they built the third church on the same site, they said they were building a church that was big enough and strong enough that they wouldn't have to rebuild again," said Earl Hayes, a lifetime church member in an interview with The Hutchinson News several years ago.

But, after 90 years, the front steps were crumbling. Rain water leaked into the cracks and into the church basement. It was again time for church members to respond to a need.

On Sunday, we celebrated the culmination of a project to restore the front entrance to the church. During several years of fundraising, 434 individual donors contributed. Some were large gifts. Some were small. Some were given in memory of faithful members. Some monies were given by our newest members. As it was when the church was built 90 years ago, it was possible with many different people working together for a common goal.

"The stairs at the front of the building are more than concrete and limestone," Pastor Ben Hanne said during the re-dedication service. "The stairs are the heart of what the church stands for. Without the stairs, there would be no means of entering into the building. It's through the entrance that all are welcomed to hear the Gospel. It's where faith and hope are experienced."

 

It's also by those stairs that we leave the sanctuary and go out into the world to share the Message we've just heard of faith, hope, justice, peace and love.

Tulips outside the Stafford First United Methodist Church 

Lifelong church member Ruth Teichman shared some of her memories of growing up in the church. As she talked, members responded with laughter as she remembered traversing the perimeter of the church on the narrow ledge. I asked Randy later: Yes, he did it, too. And, later that evening at a Sunday School party, the next generation of daredevils appeared to have been inspired by her words. Since I was one of the adults responsible for their well-being, I was thinking she should have shared less "active" memories.

But she also told about "Grandma Gerdes" who gave pansies to her Sunday School charges every Easter. A wagon full of pansies sat among tulips in her honor, just to the right of the newly-finished steps.

One of our young parishioners listened to Pastor Ben from a perch on a limestone landing. Generation after generation of church children has done the same -- and, if truth be told, has leaped off into the flower bed below.

Ruth talked about counting the squares in the stained glass ceiling during long church services. She shared about hearing the church chimes call people to worship. She remembered standing at the front of the church and reciting the books of the Bible in front of the whole congregation. Food seemed to taste better at church potluck dinners, especially if you were first through the serving line. She remembered getting bags of candy and fruit after the church Christmas pageant. (That's been a tradition for 83 years, and it still continues today.)

As she talked, I thought about so many of the familiar faces who filled the pews and did the work of the church before they passed from this life to the next. I couldn't help but look up to the west balcony and remember my in-laws, Melvin and Marie, who sat there week after week.

It reminded me of the song, "Cloud of Witnesses," by Christian recording artist, Mark Schultz. (I love his music and his voice, but I also love that he's a Kansas native and a K-State graduate.)

 

I remembered it again as former pastor Amy's son played near the front steps during the re-dedication. The song says, in part:

We watched them runnin' down the aisles,

Children's time, Sunday morning.

The preacher asked them who they loved,

They all smiled and started pointing

To their mom, their dad, teacher from the kindergarten class

Each and every one had just become

A cloud of witnesses.

A cloud of witnesses that would see them through the years

Cheer them with a smile

And pray them through the tears

A cloud of witnesses that would see them to the end

Shower them with love that never ends

A cloud of witnesses.

For our family, it's certainly provided "a cloud of witnesses" and has been a centerpiece of our lives.

• Randy has worshiped there his entire life, and it's been my church home for the past 34 years. Our children were the fourth generation of the family to worship there.
• It's where we gather with our best friends for worship and fellowship each week.
• It's where our children were baptized and were taught and nurtured by a whole congregation.
• It's where we said goodbye to Randy's parents. 
• It's where our daughter was married. (It's also where Randy's parents married.)
• It's where we share a portion of our time and talents through service, resources and committee work.

I'm thankful for so great a cloud of witnesses. Enjoy the song!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. 

Hebrews 12: 1-3

God's Parables

Every happening, great and small, 

is a parable whereby God speaks to us, 

and the art of life is to get the message.

 –Malcolm Muggeridge, journalist

There's nothing like a field of sunflowers to turn a gloomy day around.

I wasn't having the best of days. My mood matched my melancholy. I don't like to admit it, but it's true.

And then I saw them: The giant sunflowers along 4th Street Road just west of Hutchinson had bloomed in all their glory. The cloud-filled blue sky provided the perfect contrast to their cheery faces.

I turned down the dirt road and trekked out into the field, even though I had on going-to-town shoes instead of my dirty tennis shoes. I decided I'd beg forgiveness instead of ask permission if the farmer came along and wondered what I was doing.

I was just admiring the view. And I must say, the view lifted my spirits.

Not many farmers grow sunflowers around here. We don't. This summer, I've only seen this one field of sunflowers in the 35-mile trip to Hutchinson.

Sunflowers turn their "faces" to the sun. Since it was nearing evening, the sun wasn't in the right position to take photos of the whole field and get their beautiful "faces." But, on Friday, I had a dental appointment in Hutchinson and allowed a few extra minutes so that I could take photos from the east road. 

But even though I liked seeing all those petals turned my direction, I still kept my eye out for the rebel. I drove slowly down the dirt road, looking for a sunflower turned to the west instead of the east.

And I found it. I also have to admire the one that doesn't always go along with the crowd. 

Yes, God's parables can even be found in a sunflower field, I think.

***

I'm linked to the Country Fair Blog Hop. Check out these other rural writers!

Nicole of Tales of A Kansas Farm Mom on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram

+Laurie Link of Country Linked on Facebook, Pinterest  

+taysha reitzel  of Dirt Road Charm on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest

+Danielle Beard of High Heels and Shotgun Shells on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest

In the Face of Tragedy

A photo from our December 2007 ice storm. We were without electricity for 12 days.

The photos from the South Dakota blizzard are painful to see. One came through on my Facebook feed last night, showing dozens of cattle who had perished, revealed as the snow melted from a deep valley. 

I have a blogging friend, Robyn of The Ranch Wife Chronicles who had planned to go to the South Dakota Women in Agriculture convention last weekend. But her husband, J, whom she calls The Rancher, had a feeling. He thought that the predicted winter storm might be worse than anyone thought. 

This is one of those times when I'm sure The Rancher wishes he were wrong. They moved cattle around to try to position them as best they could for the coming storm. They were among the fortunate ones. They don't think they lost cattle, though they won't know for sure until they bring them off summer pastures and get an accurate count. But The Rancher's cousin lost somewhere between 15 and 20 cattle that they know of so far. Others of their friends, neighbors and colleagues lost that many or more.

In fact, some news reports say that ranchers lost between 20 and 50 percent of their herds. Besides the emotional toll, think about how that will impact their financial health this year and for years to come. 

Have you heard much about it on the national news? I haven't. That's a tragedy, too. 

The numbers will continue to evolve as the people of South Dakota dig out. However, as I heard from Robyn by email today, more stormy weather is forecast. So, ranchers are again racing around, trying their best to protect their herds and prepare for the unknown. 

Last weekend's blizzard was unseasonably early. Most ranchers hadn't moved cattle from summer pastures, which offered less protection than the winter counterparts.  The cattle hadn't grown their thicker winter coats yet, providing less protection from the elements.

Yesterday, I read a post by another South Dakota blogger, Just a Ranch Wife. She was not someone in my blog feed (though she will be now). She talked about the ridiculous comments that some people were making in the comment section of stories published in the Rapid City Journal and elsewhere.

There were comments that ranchers shouldn't have more cattle than they could house in a barn. There were comments that ranchers cared more about their big pickup trucks than their herds. 

The ignorance is astounding. The callousness of people who would rather criticize than commiserate is unfathomable to me. Why do people use a tragedy to push their own agendas?

Yesterday, someone from South Dakota shared a photo on Facebook. It showed the vastness of the South Dakota landscape, with fence posts barely peeking out of snow banks. It was from

Amber Bruce West's photo, along with this caption:  

Here's a picture of all the PETA animal rights people lined up to help out with finding, feeding, and helping our poor animals that survived the storm. Can you see them??? But by golly have a circus come to town and they are out in droves.

  As you can see, there weren't any PETA people in the photo - just miles of snow. 

Yes, farming and ranching looks easy when you are examining it from your computer screen. It's a lot tougher when you're again out on the 4-wheeler looking for cows and calves to save.

Tragedy has seemed to pile on top of tragedy this month. 

This week, I went to a funeral for a young man killed in an accident a week ago. He grew up farming with his family just to the east of us. He also left behind a wife and two little girls. I was struck by the words shared by his father-in-law during the message. 

"Our families want you to know that God didn't make this happen."

Also this month, my cousin's daughter, who is Jill's age, lost her husband and father of their 4-month-old twins.

It's not part of God's plan to take people away from loving families. It's not part of God's plan to harm animals and affect the livelihood of people who work so hard to care for His creation. 

But God is there to walk alongside us when we grieve and when we try to pick up the pieces of shattered lives. He weeps with us.

If you'd like to help the South Dakota ranchers, here's a link for a Rancher Relief Fund. 

***

For another blog from a South Dakota rancher, check out this one from Opened Door: Broken Dreams and Hearts on the Western Dakota Prairie.