Fly Like An Eagle

 

It pays to have a husband with an eagle eye - literally.

Last week, his eagle eye actually spotted a bald eagle. As the song from Fiddler on the Roof goes, Miracle of Miracles, the eagle stayed put long enough for Randy to pick me up and take me to the location for a few photos before the eagle swooped away.

I have horrible eyesight. I've been wearing strong glasses since grade school. For me, glasses are the last thing off and the first thing on every day. Even with properly-prescribed glasses, I squint and struggle with vision.

Randy has never worn glasses. Well ... he sort of wears them for reading -- once he retrieves a pair of his over-the-counter glasses he leaves scattered around the house and in various vehicles.

Randy spotted the bald eagle on yet another trip to Zenith for diesel fuel during wheat planting. The eagle was perched in a dead cottonwood tree along the Zenith Road.

A pair of eagles builds its nest at nearby Quivira National Wildlife Refuge each winter, but it is too far away from a roadway for me to capture a photo. 

 

A year ago in July, an eagle perched on a pasture fence long enough that I was able to snap a few photos (again, thanks to Randy's "eagle" eye.)

July 2020

It's quite a treat to see them up close. Usually, they land way too far away for my little camera to be effective. 

Both Randy and I have kept our eyes to the sky to catch another glimpse of our majestic visitor. But we haven't been lucky enough to see him again. However, I keep thinking about that eagle and all that he sees as he's soaring through the air over our Kansas plains.

 

As is often the case, "flying high" seemed to be a theme with threads running through the whole week.  

An early morning soccer game for Brooke and the Fighting Unicorns provided an added treat when a hot air balloon appeared at a distance, then flew directly over the field. Spectators were watching the balloon as it traveled across the clear blue sky. 

 

 

But I think I captured the time when some of the Fighting Unicorns saw it for the first time.   

 

As a parent or grandparent, it's fun (and sometimes amusing) to watch these initial forays into teamwork and friendship. 

 

Some of my favorite photos of the day were taken off the field. 

... making friends ...

 ... cheering on teammates ...

... their turn to play ...

 

 

 ... and time for hot chocolate!

 

Cheering spectators are important, too!

 

At church, there was another glimpse of working together to "fly high" for a good cause.

The kids sold cookies in a jar for a mission project for the Zoe Empowers organization. Their goal was to raise funds for 10 sets of cooking pots for their sponsored friend group in the African country of Liberia.

Susanna Wesley UMC photo from their Facebook page

They quickly sold out! Grandma and Grandpa did their part.

Then we watched Kinley and her friends play in bell choir.

That is both a visual - and audio - reminder of the importance of working together. 

 I hope the girls and their friends learn how to "fly like an eagle" and SOAR in this life!

It's a lot easier with teamwork ... whether that's a husband who takes the time to come and get you when there's an opportunity for an eagle shot ... or on a sports field ... or in a church mission field.

You Are the Seed

 

I've been going to a Methodist Church since my parents carried me through the doors of the small Byers church as an infant. (Click here to read about the closing service at the Byers UMC.)

 

By now, you'd think I'd have heard all the songs in the hymnal. But, just like most things, we gravitate toward the familiar. We sing the same songs, over and over. And there's some beauty in that. More than once, I've sung some of those songs in my head, a comfort in an uncomfortable setting, or a praise at an unexpected pleasure.

Of course, you can take a good thing too far. If you know me, you know I'm not a big fan of "How Great Thou Art." Yes, I know it's a favorite to many, and I've sung it for a whole lot of funerals. But, it seemed I heard nearly weekly renditions of the hymn as a child waiting for the preacher to arrive at his second pulpit in a three-point charge. "How Great Thou Art" ranks up there as a "too much of a good thing" for me. 

When we were at Jill and Eric's church in Topeka a few weeks ago, one of the hymns was a new one to me. At Susanna Wesley UMC, they aren't singing aloud these days. If you're worshiping in person, you have to listen to a soloist sing the words. (It's another thing to hate about Covid-19. No offense to the soloist. I just like singing in church and now that I'm the pianist at my home church, I find fewer and fewer opportunities to sing hymns with others.) But I liked the song well enough that I sent a message to myself to look it up when I got home. It's found on Page 583, if you happen to have a UMC Hymnal sitting around.

 

We're on Month No. 7+ of a pandemic. We're a week away from a contentious election. These words seem to be good advice. And they also seemed to go with several photos I've accumulated in the past week or so -- plus a few from the archives.

First snowfall of this fall/winter, October 26, 2020, wheat field

 

You Are the Seed

UMC Hymnal, No. 583 - By Cesareo Gabarain

Translated from Spanish

You are the seed that will grow a new sprout

You're a star that will shine in the night. 

 

 You are the yeast and a small grain of salt,

A beacon to glow in the dark.

 Go, my friends, go to the world,

Proclaiming love to all

 

Stained glass at chapel at Youthville, Newton, KS

 

  Messengers of my forgiving peace, eternal love.

 You are the dawn that will bring a new day; 

 

You're the wheat that will bear golden grain.

You are a sting and a soft, gentle touch.

My witnesses where e'er you go.

 Be, my friends, a loyal witness

From the dead I arose.

"Lo, I'll be with you forever,

till the end of the world."

 

You are the flame that will lighten the dark,

sending sparkles of hope, faith and love.

Rattlesnake Pasture - October 26, 2020

 

You are the shepherds to lead the whole world

 through valleys and pastures of peace.

 

You are the friends that I chose for myself

the word that I want to proclaim.

You are the new kingdom built on a rock

where justice and truth always reign.

 You are the life that will nurture the plant;

you're the waves in a turbulent sea;

 

Yesterday's yeast is beginning to rise,

A new loaf of bread it will yield.

There is no place for a city to hide,

nor a mountain can cover its might.

May your good deeds show a world in despair

A path that will lead all to God. 

 

 

I found this version on YouTube. (Sorry if any unsuitable ads come up as you're trying to play it. It seems to happen since I don't pay for a subscription.)

 

 

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?

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