Anniversaries Celebrating Real Life and Death

“Harsh beauty, this life. Not for the fainthearted” (Michael Armstrong).

This year, Alan and I celebrated our fiftieth anniversary. For years, Alan and I had been looking forward to celebrating with all our kids and grandkids gathered around—and possibly some other relatives and friends too. Not possible!

Michael’s family got transferred to Japan before Jonathan’s family finished their school year in Germany, so there was no time when those two families could be together in America. We settled for a series of family celebrations, including my brothers coming in the spring, two of our kids with their families coming in June, and three other kids with families in July/August. Thankfully, two of our kids’ families live right here in GR, so over the course of the summer, we did lots of celebrating and got to see all our kids and grandchildren! In reality, I am overjoyed that Alan and I are both still alive, in pretty good health, and able to celebrate fifty years of marriage. When you’re eating fruitcake, you don’t need frosting.

This summer Aaron and Carleen celebrated their twenty-first anniversary . . . two gorgeous, gifted, energetic, creative, wonderful, strong-willed firstborns who’ve produced four similarly ebullient sons, now in their second decade of life and more than four hands’ full.

I was overjoyed to read Carleen’s heart-felt reflection: “Marriage is hard. It’s a lot harder than I thought….and I truly did think I was prepared to do the work. But in spite of the difficulty, I am proud of the labor we put in and all the little goodnesses that we have made together. I am proud of us for hanging on when it was rough, for all the unglamour we have slogged through and for all the growth and forgiveness we have started learning together.

“I have now lived with Aaron longer than I did with parents in my childhood home which feels like a kind of staggering thought. Here’s to the next stage of home and growing up! I am grateful for the ways marriage has remade me and taught me about real love. Thank you, Aaron for being stubborn beside me. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do another 21!”

This summer Mike and Grace celebrated their twentieth anniversary—in Japan.

To celebrate, they took their kids for a hike despite the rain! Their kids are intrepid.

Almost! When you’re two, it’s pretty hard to keep singin’ in the rain for very long.

I was overjoyed to hear they were able to slip out for a cup of coffee the next night.

Better than nothing when you’re staying in temporary housing while house-hunting in a foreign country with six kids, a dog, and a cat. Right?

This summer Jonathan and Gerlinde celebrated their fourteenth anniversary. Jon’s family came from Germany during their kids’ school break, which happened to coincide with their anniversary.

Alan and I were able to spring them for an overnight before their actual anniversary, but on the real day, they were busy giving their girls a wonderful time with their cousins at a water park, eating fudge and being playful. Romantic? No. Being wonderful parents? Yes.

I know love is blind, and I love my husband and my kids, but I don’t look around and say, “Other couples are having it a lot easier; I wish Alan and I—and our kids—didn’t have it so tough.” No, I look around and say, “Michael is right!” Life is harsh, and we only find the beauty as we persevere through the pain.

This summer, Alan and I read A Man’s Journey Through Grief: The Candid Memoir of a Jesus-Follower’s Struggles to Rebuild His Life after His Wife’s Death, written by Eric E. Wright. If you’re experiencing deep grief over the loss of a spouse, or you love someone who’s lost their spouse, I highly recommend this book.

Life is hard. Life as a couple is hard. But, life alone sounds so much harder! I am grateful every day for God, who gives us the power to love, persevere, and grow despite the problems.

“Love is patient, love is kind, it is not jealous; love does not brag, it is not arrogant. It does not act disgracefully, it does not seek its own benefit; it is not provoked, does not keep an account of a wrong suffered, it does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; it keeps every confidence, it believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails” (1 Corinthians 13:4-8, NASB).

“But you are to remember the Lord your God, for it is He who is giving you power to make wealth, in order to confirm His covenant which He swore to your fathers, as it is this day. And it shall come about, if you ever forget the Lord your God and follow other gods and serve and worship them, I testify against you today that you will certainly perish” (Deuteronomy 18:18-19, NASB).

TWA: NW (09) Badlands National Park: Bad Lands or Good Lands?

We arrived at Badlands National Park on a gorgeous, sunny day, albeit hot, hot, hot, dry, and windy. The speed limit in South Dakota is 80 mph, but it still seems like it takes a long time to get anywhere!

The original settlers were the Lakota people, who named the area “mako sica,” which means “bad lands,” probably due to the extreme temperatures, nearly desert dryness, and a 60-mile ridge of rock formations that make it extremely difficult to traverse.

I visited the Badlands once as a little girl, and my mother filled my heart with fear by recounting tales of the Badlands being a wild, desolate hideout for “bad guys” who stole U.S. Army payrolls and were cattle rustlers and horse thieves. Nobody wandered in and came out alive . . . or at least not with their horse still under them. 😦

The second time I visited was after Alan and I were first married. We were heading west from Michigan to explore the country and visit our sibs in California as a second honeymoon. It was late April of 1973, and we hadn’t really been paying much attention to the news on our trip. As kids, Alan and I both had very dark hair, and I often wore mine in braids. We were hiking a trail and noticed two young native Americans coming toward us, eyeing us suspiciously. Our first thought was that they wanted to rob us, but they seemed to relax as we got close and let us pass without saying anything. Alan was (completely coincidentally) wearing his hockey jacket with the name of his team in bold letters: “IROQUOIS.” It wasn’t until the next day we realized we were just a few miles from Wounded Knee, on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, during the week two Native Americas were shot and killed while Wounded Knee was being occupied.

Our next visit was about thirty years later, when we returned to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation with the youth group from our church specifically on a peace mission. We spent a week working with a local church, cleaning, repairing, and painting a youth center. We also held nightly youth rallies and Vacation Bible School, which drew lots of interest. Thirty-nine young people asked Jesus to become their Lord and Savior that week. I still pray sometimes for “Cody,” who was interested but obviously conflicted. It would be a joy to be able to go back and re-meet the kids we got to know on that trip. Hopefully, someday we’ll meet some of them in heaven!

(Our RV, Sanctuary, is the tan camper in the middle of this photo)

Our last trip was this past summer, and it just happened to be “Bike Week” in Sturgis, South Dakota, so we were surrounded by hundreds of bikes at times. The paper reported up to 500,000 happy Harley Davidson burly bikers attend Bike Week every year. Never a dull moment in the Badlands for us!

But, are the Badlands really “bad”? The land is arid, but it has a beauty all its own. We drove the dramatic 39-mile “Badlands Loop Road,” and stopped at most all of the 16 scenic lookouts. There are various trails where you can do some hiking (but take water, a compass, and sun screen if you do). The Ben Reifel and White River Visitor Centers have maps, interactive exhibits, and sometimes cultural demonstrations, which are great for learning about the area and the indigenous Lakota people, who are members of the Oglala Sioux Nation.

We thought the Badlands were lovely . . . like a little Grand Canyon. The sandstone formations are mostly tan with some red-striped layers,

although sometimes there were pastel blues, pinks, and yellows.

“Prairie Dogs Watching” Badlands. National Park Service; Jose Torres, 2014 http://www.sharetheexperience.org

We also stopped at the largest (accessible by road) colony “town” of black-tailed prairie dogs just off Safe Creek Road, known as Roberts Prairie Dog Town, where hundreds of prairie dogs have created an underground city!

We took some videos because they groom and kiss each other. They were chittering, twittering, and calling to each other almost like birds. I’d never seen anything quite like it!

The Badlands is said to have the largest expanse of mixed-prairie grass in the country, which you can access from the Badlands Loop Road.

Badlands National Park Service photo of a Gumbo Lily (Public Domain)

Time to Stop for a drink! Photo taken in the Badlands by Joseph Larkin
National Park Service: Sharetheexperience.org

There are many species of animals and plants (even a herd of 1,200 bison) that somehow eke out a life in this harsh wilderness, although we didn’t personally see much wildlife besides prairie dogs.

Photo by Erik Fremsted. Badlands National Park

I’ve read you can see up to 7,500 stars with the naked eye at night. During summer nights park rangers at Cedar Pass Campground Amphitheater come prepared with telescopes to help you turn that number up to countless! Every July they host a Badlands Astronomy Festival, where scientists and amateurs share their love of the stunning views and all things celestial.

Buttes and pinnacles in the Badlands. National Park Service. Public Domain

Still, the question remains, are the Badlands “bad lands,” or “good lands”? I think the answer is in the definition. If “bad” has moral implications, then a land isn’t bad just by merit of its existence! In fact, the Bible says that everything God created in the beginning was “very good” (Genesis 1:31).

“Motorcycle in the Badlands at Sunset” Photo by Richard Harrison, 2011
National Park Service: Sharetheexperience.org

Good and bad in the moral sense are not matters of being but of doing. No one is good or bad because of where they live, the color of their skin, or what they ride or walk. We grow in goodness as we become more and more like God, who is good, all the time!

Okay, so this one just makes me think of Alan and me and all the bikers we saw, many of whom are our age and very friendly despite their somewhat intimidating appearance! Don Moen is exactly our age and also married (and is still married to) the love of his life in 1973. Hope you enjoy old fashioned fun reminding us that no matter what, God is good, and good to us, all the time!

Badlands National Park, by William Green

“Beloved, do not imitate evil but imitate good.
Whoever does good is from God;
whoever does evil has not seen God” (3 John 1:11).

Trifle: Perfect Solution for a Big Group Dessert

If you’ve got a big group coming over for dinner, here’s an easy way to prepare a dessert for the multitudes that almost everybody is going to love! We first fell in love with trifles 40 years ago when they served huge strawberry trifles at Disney’s Epcot Center in the Canadian Pavilion. Back in those days, you could get a trifle big enough for two for $5. Those were truly “the good, old days.” No more!

But, there’s no reason why you can’t make your own! It’s really very simple. Because I now have a daughter-in-law who’s allergic to strawberries, I used blueberries and blackberries, although both Alan and I think strawberry trifles are really THE best.

Fresh Fruit Trifle with Custard and Cream
(Serves 18-24)

White cake or sponge cake, baked, cooled, and cut into approximately one-inch squares. (I made mine the night before and covered it with wrap).

6 cups vanilla custard (Either use two vanilla pudding mixes which each make 3 cups of pudding—instant or cooked— or use my recipe for making custard, found here: https://kathrynwarmstrong.wordpress.com/2019/03/09/cream-pies-coconut-chocolate-and-banana/. For either commercial puddings or the above recipe, I add an extra 1 cup of cold milk at the end so the custard is a little runnier and absorbs more readily into the cake.

In a separate mixing bowl, combine:
3 cups heavy whipping cream with
3 tablespoons granulated sugar and beat until medium peaks form

Wash 8 cups fresh berries: strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, or some combination

Layer the ingredients in the bottom of a punch bowl.

1. End with fruit and then top with whipping cream.

This dessert can be made a few hours ahead, stored in the refrigerator covered with plastic wrap, and taste fabulous. It will get a little mushy after its original serving, but the flavor is almost better after it’s had a little time for the cake to absorb all the custard and whipping cream, so the leftovers (if you have any) won’t go to waste even though it won’t look as scrumptious.

“Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods? who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?” (Exodus 15:11) .

Unsung Heroism

I hate having friends die, but I do love hearing all the great stories about them. Do you feel the same? I come away from memorial services with a sense of awe and a deeper appreciation for their character. Don’t you wish we could know about people’s unsung heroism before they die? To me, one of the exciting things about heaven will be an eternity of learning more about the noble things people have done . . . and the great God behind them . . . because—as we may forget on earth but will all remember in heaven—God is the one who empowers us to do good (Deuteronomy 8:18). Rob never forgot that.

Dozens of judges filed in before the service to honor their colleague

Not long ago Alan and I attended the funeral of a federal judge who was well known as a man of great integrity. He was a true follower of his Savior, Jesus, and he had a deep desire to see justice and mercy prevail in our judicial system. There were well-deserved tributes given concerning his role as a judge, but the ones that touched me most deeply were the ones I knew nothing about, including one time when there was a car accident just ahead of him during a family vacation. His daughter watched him pull over, jump out of their car, run down the hill, climb up on the side of the overturned pickup (which was steaming from heat), pull the man out of the truck, help pull his wife out too, and then go on his way as soon as the emergency vehicles and fire trucks arrived without ever sharing his name. No glory needed. His daughter had no clue the danger her father had been in until she saw his shoes at home, the soles melted.

As a teenager, Rob helped out on his family’s farm in the summers. During hay baling season, he sweat in the sunshine with his cousins, stacking bales of hay as the tractor drove through the verdant fields. After the hay was stacked, the kids would climb aboard and ride back to the barn atop the hay. One afternoon, a wheel of the wagon got stuck in a rut and the entire wagon turned on its side. Everyone and everything fell off. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but Rob saw one youngster (about three years old) lying on the ground, so he scrambled over, bracing himself on his hands and knees over the child so the bales fell on him instead.

Rob’s act of self-sacrifice was etched permanently into his cousin’s memory, because he understood the risk. So did I as I listened to the story! I have a relative who had a hay and feed store years ago. He was sued when a wagon-load of hay turned over and a woman broke her neck. It ruined her life, and it ruined his business. People die from accidents like this.

Rob’s instinctive passion to help others despite personal risk came from a deep faith and commitment to God from childhood, and it made him especially effective during his 30+ years as a federal judge. It takes tremendous courage to protect the innocent and stand against ill!

I’ve thought back on Rob’s unsung heroism many times, because it pictures what Jesus does for me! How many times do I do something ignorantly or carelessly that could cost myself or others their lives? I’ll probably never know; nor will I ever know how many times God has rescued me from danger during this life. Ultimately, He saves all who cry out to him for help, not only in this life but for the next: “He to rescue me from danger interposed his precious blood.” Rob is also alive in heaven today because Jesus interposed his precious blood to save him! Thank you, Jesus, for giving your life to save Rob’s, mine, and every one who asks. And, thank you, Rob, for a long life of giving yourself sacrificially to help protect others from harm!

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:4-5).

TWA: NW (08) Lewis and Clark’s Mighty Missouri River

Every American who’s ever studied history has read and heard of the Mighty Mississippi River, but did you know that the Missouri River is actually longer than the Mississippi before they meet up in St. Louis?

The Missouri River meanders through the Northwest for 2,341 miles (compared to the Upper Mississippi at 1,042 miles) before their confluence just north of St. Louis, so it’s really the combination of the Missouri plus the Mississippi from St. Louis to the Gulf of Mexico that makes this water system #4 in the world (at 3,902 miles).

Had young America known all this in back in 1789, perhaps cartographers would have named the entire expanse of this vast system the “Missouri River,” but no one knew how long the Missouri River was when Lewis and Clark headed out in search of a Northwest Passage to the Pacific in 1804. Besides, the Mississippi River—the “Great River”—had already been so named by the Indigenous people. So, it seems that over the ages cultural heritage combined with enough unknowns has continued to win out over present day geographical theories.

We crossed the Missouri River on the Lewis and Clark Memorial Bridge after visiting South Dakota’s Chamberlain Welcome Center and the Dignity statue.

Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery Expedition spent time in this area in September of 1804 on their way west and “the expedition returned to this area, homeward bound, in August 1806 after having journeyed into the unknown and immortality.”

Photo of the Missouri River by Robert Linder on Unsplash.com

We crossed the wide Missouri several times on our trip, and it is a mighty river! I continued to be intrigued by the wording in historical documents that Jefferson had “launched Lewis and Clark across two thousand miles into immortality.” Did the authors mean that the river was unending and had always existed, or did they mean that should Lewis and Clark survive, they would inherit “unending fame” for their accomplishments? Can we “journey into the unknown and immortality” and return again?

Isn’t true immortality the state of everlasting existence? Is there anything in this visible universe that is truly immortal? Whether we believe in the “Big Bang” or the Bible, don’t we all agree that the universe began as some point in time? In the New Testament, Timothy speaks of God as the “only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords; Who only hath immortality, dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto; whom no man hath seen, nor can see: to whom be honor and power everlasting” (1 Timothy 6:15-16).

Can we become immortal by conquest and accomplishment? History is full of incredibly brave men and women who overcame seemingly unsurmountable odds to accomplish almost impossible goals, but will their names never be forgotten? Or, will their fame eventually sift down from exploded stardom to become interred with the dusty remains of their bones?

Photo of the Missouri River at Sunset by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash.com

I do not care if I am remembered after I die, other than by those who love me, but I do care if I can become immortal. Do you? Would you like to live even after your body becomes dust? I would!

I will tell you a secret: My spirit is alive and immortal! Furthermore, this can happen to you too! Not by any heroism on our part, but through the work of “the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God” (1 Timothy 1:17). God overcame seemingly unsurmountable odds by becoming Immanuel (God in the flesh with us—Jesus) to accomplish almost impossible goals (living a sinless life and then offering himself as a sacrifice for our sins) so that we can, by accepting His gift, receive His eternal life: “And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son” ( 1 John 5:11).

Jesus is truly the only person who ever journeyed into “the unknown and immortality” and returned to tell us about it. It’s called the resurrection, which “is now made manifest by the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ, who has abolished death, and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (2 Timothy 1:10).

In comforting the grieving Martha, Jesus explained, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25 -26 ESV).

Do YOU believe this? I do! Shockingly, this is all the “work” we have to do: “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent” (John 6:29). We don’t have to climb any mountain or ford any stream. All we have to do is cry out to Jesus, “I believe; help thou mine unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). If you want immortality, that’s the place to start! Give all your doubts and fears and unbelief to Jesus. Ask Him to forgive your unbelief and open your eyes to spiritual realities. Ask His comforting Holy Spirit to bring you to spiritual birth and teach you the truth. And then, listen to the still small voice within you. It will be the breath of God. Close your eyes and let Him breathe out his new life in you! Study the Bible (see John 5:39) and pray for God to guide you. Then follow Him. Become His disciple. Seek out other Christian believers and find a church home where you can fellowship and grow.

My prayer is that you will not fail to make the right choice. You don’t have to know all the answers before you surrender your heart to Christ. Whether a river should be named “Mississippi” or “Missouri” is really of little consequence, but whether we can be born again with immortal spirits that will never die is of eternal consequence! Please don’t let your cultural heritage or ignorance of spiritual unknowns keep you from believing in Jesus, who is the only true way to the Father!

“I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”
(John 14:6)

(The first two images are from the Wikipedia article about the Missouri River: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Missouri_River)

Blueberry Pastry Roll

It’s that time of year again for those of us who love blueberries! The bushes are full and the picking is easy here in Michigan! Our family tends to have “fruit festivals” all summer, depending on when the U-pick crops are ready: strawberries in June, cherries in July, blueberries in August . . . then peaches and apples. Our son, Jonathan, especially loves blueberries, but they’re now living in Germany where blueberries aren’t common, so while visiting us this August, they picked ever so many blueberries, and Jonathan made 2 dozen jars of blueberry jam (which we’ve been feasting on)! We’ve had muffins and waffles and pancakes—all common in America, but I made up a new recipe that turned out so well I thought you might enjoy it too:

Blueberry Pastry Roll with Cream Cheese Frosting
(Makes 4-6 slices)

Ingredients:
1 eight-oz. pastry sheet
1/2 cup blueberry jam
1 cup fresh blueberries
1/3 cup cream cheese frosting

The frosting is optional, but here are the ingredients if you want to make it:
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon softened cream cheese
1 teaspoon butter
1 tablespoon milk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Unroll the pastry sheet flat onto a cookie sheet. (I didn’t butter my pan, and the pastry didn’t stick, but if you have any doubts, butter your pan first.)

Spread the jam evenly across the sheet, but leave the ends and sides without jam so they’ll seal better.

Spread one cup of fresh blueberries in a single layer on top of the jam.

Start at one end of the long edge and gently roll the pastry and berry filling toward you.

When you get near the end, turn the other end up so that the dough joins at the top rather than underneath (to help keep in the juices). Pinch the ends firmly closed and tuck them under, then make sure the top edge is well sealed. Pinch together a little as needed.

Bake at 350°F. for 20 minutes, or until it’s starting to turn a deep, golden brown on the edges. Mine cracked open here, and I lost some of the juice. 😦 It’s not always possible to tell if everything is seamless, a little like our lives!

Well, at least it wasn’t ruined! By the time I got the pastry on a serving plate, nobody knew it has lost a little blood. Reminds me of how God redeems us! We go through the fire and come out with some wounds, but He binds us up and uses us anyway.

The pastry roll can be served plain, but I like to add a little icing, In a bowl, mix together until completely smooth:
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon softened cream cheese
1 teaspoon butter
1 tablespoon milk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Frost the top and then serve it up, preferably still warm. I divided this pastry into four slices, although it could have been cut into six pieces. It’s one of those treats that can be eaten on its own merit with a cup of tea, or served as part of a larger (more healthy) breakfast.

Should I admit that we had it for breakfast with tea, but then Alan and I ate an entire roll ourselves? Fresh out of the oven and all melty, it’s pretty wonderful!

“Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness’ sake, O Lord” (Psalm 25:7).

Global Women’s Prayer: Praying the Lord’s Prayer

Got an hour this coming Wednesday to invest in praying with other women? Come join us at Global Family as we gather to pray the Lord’s prayer over our region of the world, in our native tongue, in harmony with other women who also long for God’s kingdom to come and His will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Who is invited? Just women this time, but if any of you men out there would like to gather together and pray the Lord’s Prayer over your land, please feel free to organize a similar session! Let me know, and I can connect you with the right man to help make it happen!

Any other stipulations? Jesus “said unto them, When you pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth” (Luke 11:2). This prayer session is for any woman who wants to address God as “Our Father.” We become God’s children spiritually when we repent of our sins and are “born anew” into the family of God (see John 1:12 and 3:1-21). However, physically we are already God’s children by merit of his creating each of us: “But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand” (Isaiah 64:8). “Doubtless thou art our father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not: thou, O Lord, art our father, our redeemer; thy name is from everlasting” (Isaiah 63:16). God is a father to all who trust in Him, regardless of our religious pedigree of physical descent: “Have we not all one father? hath not one God created us? why do we deal treacherously every man against his brother?” (Malachi 2:10).

And, that’s the crux of the matter. We don’t have to be Jews or Christians to pray to God: “And think not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham” (Matthew 3:9). We just have to be ready to cry out to God as OUR FATHER, acknowledging Him as the One who can provide grace and peace to us and to this groaning world (Romans 1:7).

Is your heart to seek God as your father? To acknowledge Him as the world’s “our” father—the only One who can redeem us and our world? If so, please join us in worshiping God corporately as we petition Him for provision, forgiveness, protection, and peace on this earth.

“Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us,
and we gave them reverence:
shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live?”
(Hebrews 12:9)

TWA: NW (07) Honoring the Dignity of America’s Indigenous People

On a bluff overlooking the Missouri River just off I-90 in South Dakota is the Chamberlain Interstate Welcome Center. If you go by, please don’t miss it! The center is filled with information about the Lewis and Clark Expedition but also has a monumental tribute to America’s native peoples and cultures. The centerpiece is a 50-foot stainless steel statue called Dignity, created by South Dakota’s artist laureate Dale Lamphere (who has completed 60 major public sculptures on display from coast to coast). It was given in 2014 to commemorate South Dakota’s 125th statehood anniversary and to honor the dignity and value of America’s indigenous people, especially the Dakota and Lakota tribes indigenous to South Dakota.

Lewis and Clark on the Lower Columbia by Charles M. Russell (Public Domain)

I assumed Dignity was a statue of Sacagawea, the incredible 16-year-old woman who joined the Lewis and Clark expedition with a 55-day-old infant, serving as a guide, translator, and diplomat over nearly 5,000 miles of their 16-month expedition, all the while carrying her papoose on her back!

“Lewis & Clark at Three Forks” by Edgar S. Paxon (Public Domain)

Although Sacagawea is perhaps the most courageous of all American heroines, the statue is really a tribute to the beauty and nobility of all Indigenous peoples.

As a side note, I have a girlfriend, Roxie, whose son, Clint Anderson, was on the structural engineering team and figured out the need for space between the stars on Dignity‘s quilt so the winds could flow through and meet the wind resistance regulations.

Roxie is from South Dakota and has been helping me with photos for the blogs about her home state, since I lost most of my photos and she’s been touring around this summer. You’ll be seeing her name in the credits for awhile! (Thank you, Roxie, for photos 1,4, and 5!)

But, back to the moral of this story: I, and all Americans, need to recognize our role in the oppression of our Native Americans! We can grieve the past, but we can’t change the past. However, there’s no excuse for not appreciating and encouraging every culture in our country to pursue life, liberty, and happiness in their own, unique way. True? I have six sons and one son-in-law. My son-in-law is 1/4 Indigenous, and I’m as proud of him as if he were a son by birth. He is intelligent, godly, hardworking, completely trustworthy, and an awesome husband and father (as well as a fabulous son-in-law). Truly, he is worthy of as much honor and dignity as anyone I know, maybe more, because he’s had to live at peace in a culture that has not always been kind to him.

I was inspired by this message by Susan Claussen Bunger, a professor emeritus of Native American social systems: “As is evident through history, humans will ultimately disillusion and betray. As is such, I have a new role model who is solid and sturdy. She literally owns a spine of steel and reminds me of the injustice in the world, but also of strength, perseverance and survival. She signifies people who have prevailed through the centuries. She represents all who resist and strive forward. She portrays a rallying cry for those who wish to be heard and valued. She stands strong and proud, meeting the morning sun and bracing against the nighttime cold. She contemplates the world through a poise of conviction and fearlessness. Her name is ‘Dignity‘.”

“The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee” (Psalm 9:9-10).

“Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow” (Isaiah 1:16-17).

Pineapple Mango & Teriyaki Pork Tenderloin, by Tom Benedict

Since Tom has retired and his wife, Brenda, is still working, Tom’s taken over as chief cook and bottle washer for the two of them.

One of their sons is a professional chef, and Tom has been Brenda’s sous chef when they have company for some time, but this past month, he took over and created his own recipe for a pork tenderloin that was so good we all took our hats off (as you can see in this picture). 🙂 Congratulations, Tom! You’re doing great!!

Pineapple Mango & Teriyaki Pork Tenderloin
(Serves a bunch; I’d guess 12)

Ingredient List:
3 lbs. pork tenderloin
1 can pineapple rings (drain  juice for use later)
1 cup chopped mango
large white onion, sliced

In a separate bowl:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 Tablespoon Liquid Smoke
2 Tablespoons McCormick Seasonings-Garlic and Onion + Black Pepper & Sea Salt All-Purpose Seasoning
1 cup Teriyaki sauce
1/4 cup honey
Reserved pineapple juice
1 tablespoon minced garlic

Cut pork tenderloin in half lengthwise.  Use 9 x 13 baking pan lightly sprayed with Pam.   Place pineapple rings in single layer in the bottom of the pan. Remaining pineapple will be used later.  Place the two halves of pork, flat side down, on top of pineapple .  Drizzle prepared mixture over the meat.  Cut remaining pineapple rings into quarters.  Arrange pineapple and mango on both sides and between meat. Place onion on top of pork.   

Bake on center rack of preheated oven at 375 degrees for 40-45 minutes or until meat temperature reaches 150 degrees.

Remove from oven and cover with aluminum foil.   

Let rest 10 minutes before carving. Use the liquid and baked fruit as a sauce for the meat. This makes it especially moist and delectable (my editorializing). Hope you enjoy it as much as we did!!

“For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach. He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain, but hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined. He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it” (Titus 1:7-9, ESV). Tom is someone who fits the description of a good leader in the Church . . . and I think in our communities as well. Thank you, Tom and Brenda, for decades of hospitality and for how much your friendship has blessed us!

Reflections on Grief and Healing, by my Daughter-in-Law Brianna

After Hananiah was born sleeping two summers back, I found a measure of solace in the words of others walking “similar” grief journeys. I searched out books on pregnancy and infant loss. Took screenshots of excerpts others flagged as helpful. My summer vacation reading material was one author’s firsthand account of her own full-term stillbirth.

Heavy stuff, I suppose. But when you are inundated by the shockwaves of loss- when you are left reeling from the disconnect between what was and now most certainly is NOT- you reach out for the perspective of those that have navigated their own floodwaters, trusting those words will buoy your soul as you too learn to swim in the yawning deep.

It’s necessary to know that others have survived. And it’s cathartic to stumble upon the truth that, after all, the depth of such grief is (of course) not a solitary experience.

One such excerpt that has stuck with me is the following:

“You don’t need solutions… You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it. You need someone to hold your hands while you stand there in blinking horror…

Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”

When I read this commentary several weeks after burying our baby son, I was neck-high in the hurt carved out by the tiny patch of dirt his body claimed. Unsettled and broken. Feeling the great heaviness of all of the unknowns; bent under the “injustice” of a life that was silenced before it ever hardly started.

These words came to me as an embrace. I felt seen. Someone else knew what it was to feel utterly bereft, and from that place of understanding, she offered me an invitation to sit in the sorrow- without expectations or rationalizations.

The more I live with grief, the more I appreciate this concept.

We went to Hani’s graveside recently. Brought homemade cupcakes; blue-frosting with rainbow-colored sprinkles. It had been two years since the morning of his birth and we wanted to celebrate him in a small way. Sam threw the football around with us while Neil ran up and down the rows of headstones. Margaret drooled and grinned and watched her siblings play.

Elanor made a beeline toward my dad’s headstone; she sat weeping over his absence before moving next to Hani’s spot, continuing to pour out her anguish over his death.

On the way home she cried again and again. Neil, being a pragmatic 3 year old, chimed in… “But he’s going to come up again! He isn’t going to stay there!” More tears from the back. “I-A (Ellie)! He’s going to come up again!”

Most days aren’t as fresh and impossible as the first ones after his birth, but the void lingers this side of heaven.

And it struck me once more that we exist in that delicate tension. Neil and Elanor were both right. We believe in a coming resurrection. And we also hurt in the now. It is right to cling to hope. And it is totally appropriate to sit in the sorrow.

The more I think about it, the more I think that, in part, the cross reflects a similar truth: Some things cannot be fixed; they can only be carried.

Isaiah 53:4-5

[4]

Surely he has borne our griefs

and carried our sorrows;

yet we esteemed him stricken,

smitten by God, and afflicted.

[5]

But he was pierced for our transgressions;

he was crushed for our iniquities;

upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,

and with his wounds we are healed.

As Brianna’s mother-in-law, I’ve really felt clumsy trying to meet her in her grief. I believe her writing is like ointment poured forth to help heal hurting moms and give those who love them a window. If you’re in more of a supporting role and feel inadequate like I do, you might also be comforted by the insight Rod Jones shared in our Sunday school class recently: “Everything about losing a child is painful. The grief that comes with such an experience is immeasurable and frankly unimaginable to those who have not gone through it” (—Nolan N. Jones, MD. The entire article is wonderful. It was published online June 23, 2023 in JAMA, called “A Daughter’s Impact.” https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2806687)