Try Knocking

Have you ever prayed earnestly for something that you felt sure would be “right and good,” only to have your prayer go unanswered? I heard once of a woman who was so convinced her son should come home from the war safely that she lost her faith when her fervent, daily prayer was denied. How do you reconcile Jesus’s teaching with the reality that we’ve all asked for something that we didn’t receive? Our pastor dealt with the two passages from Matthew 7 and Luke 9 on this topic, and although he humbly stated that he wasn’t sure he was right, it seemed right to him . . . and it also resonates in my heart, so I want to pass it along.

Jim said he was praying and asking God what the passage meant: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asks receives and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8). In his heart, he heard, “Have you ever knocked, and I haven’t opened a door?”

He thought about it a long time and realized the answer was “No.” My mental Rolodex (archaic but still apt) started flipping through entries, and I realized that was also true of me. Here’s my story: There have been many things I’ve ardently prayed for over the years (and still do), but I have not received them. Most significantly, that the whole world would believe in Jesus and be saved by faith. Wouldn’t you love that??? I can’t think of anything I’d love more! On a less global scale, I just wish all my family and the people I love so dearly would become children of God by faith and enter in to the amazing blessings of peace, joy, and eternal life that only Jesus can give. I always hope the Lord is just telling me to “Hang on, wait, and keep praying,” but I can definitely attest to the fact that not all my dearly loved relatives are born again at this point.

And, what about seeking and finding? That prayer seems to get answered with more regularity. It seems like almost any time I ask my heavenly Father for wisdom on what to do, He will give me a key. It might be a thought, or a verse that pops into my mind, or something shared by a friend . . . or possibly through the everyday circumstances as I go about my day after praying, but it definitely seems like He provides wisdom when asked, and almost always He will give me a sense of peace that I interpret as His seal of approval on what I’m considering. When it comes to finding something physical that’s lost, again, I can think of many times when He has reminded me where I put something or will put into my brain to look somewhere and it shows up. But, not always. Sometimes things stay lost. Sometimes it’s time to make a decision and I’m still unsure, or I’m under the authority of someone who makes a decision with which I disagree. Not everything works out “right” and “good” as far as I can tell. I mean, maybe I can’t tell, but sometimes things go very wrong, and I feel a little like the apostles must have felt when Jesus was crucified. “How can that possibly be right?”

But, when I stop wrestling with my own emotions and surrender to God, really, truly just wanting whatever God wants . . . when I wait in the dark for His still, small voice, He answers. I knock, and He opens the door, even if it’s just a crack of light that comes out and shines like a door of hope opening in the Valley of Achor. He is there. That’s really all I need. He cares. He’s aware. He hears. He opens His arms. I picture myself curling up on His lap, just waiting like David did, trying to quiet myself in His presence, trusting him like a nursing infant trusts his mother. I may not get what I want; I may not find what I was seeking, but He opens the door and let’s me in. I see his presence and glory, and it’s enough. I trust Him, and it’s enough. As Job said so long ago, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear: but now my eye sees You. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5-6). Who am I to be trying to explain to God why my way is the right way? “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” (Genesis 18:5). Yes; by faith, I believe He will!

So, I continue to ask daily, fervently, for all I want and think is good and right for my family and the world, but I open my hands and end with, “nevertheless not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39).

“Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, as a child that is weaned of his mother: my soul is even as a weaned child” (Psalm 131:2).

Creamy Chicken Mushroom Soup (Gluten-Free and Dairy-Free)

A few weeks ago, Susan Main served a wonderful Chicken Mushroom Soup made with coconut milk, which inspired me to make my own. It’s quite different from hers but still reminiscent, and it passed muster with my writers’ group, so I’m going to pass it on:

Creamy Chicken Mushroom Soup (Gluten and Dairy-Free)
(Makes about 12 servings)

In a large stock pot, sauté for 5 minutes:
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium red onions, chopped
2 large carrots, sliced
8 oz. sliced mushrooms
1 tablespoon garlic (fresh pressed, crushed, or dried)

Then add:
10 cups water
1 (15-ounce) can coconut cream (can use 1 cup heavy cream or two cups light cream if you like dairy)
1 tablespoon vegetable paste for soups (I use “Better than Boullion”)
2 cups roasted chicken, cut or shredded
2 tablespoons fresh parsley (or 2 teaspoons dried flakes)
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried and crushed)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme (or 1 teaspoon dried and crushed)
1 teaspoon seasoning salt (your favorite; I use Lawry’s)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground black pepper

Simmer for 20 minutes until the carrots are tender. Turn off the heat and allow the flavors to mellow and meld until it’s time to serve, then fire it up again for 5 minutes so it’s simmering and very hot when you serve it. Test and adjust salt and pepper as needed.

“Let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you” (Psalm 5:1, ESV).

Mess Pie

This isn’t a recipe for pie, this is a recipe for what might be considered a disaster! Over the holidays, we enjoyed dinner with some friends who served two kinds of pie for dessert. The wife had made both her favorite (pecan) and her husband’s favorite (butterscotch). When offered “either or both,” both Alan and I chose “BOTH!” The pie was great, and the hostess sent us home with a large slice of each type in a Christmas tin! Yum!

Of course, the first thing we managed to do was slip on the ice and drop the tin, but we swooped it up quickly, brushed off the snow, and popped it straight into the refrigerator after we got home.

The next day when it was tea time, I pulled out the tin. The slices were still there but had conglomerated into a jumble that could not be recognized as the pristine pies we’d enjoyed the night before. I loaded it all onto one plate, gave us each a fork, and we shared it together with our steaming cups of tea. But, you know what? That pie still tasted just as yummy as ever even if it looked like a mess!

Ah, life! Take two young people, put them together, have them slip on the ice, and their lives are all jumbled together into one great big mess. But somehow, by God’s grace, life still tastes wonderful, especially when shared together over cups of steaming tea!

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23, ESV).

The Great Migration, by Larry Hembroff

Had it not been for driving back and forth between Michigan and the Denver area to visit or drop off our son working in Colorado, I might never have been aware of an amazing annual spectacle—the spring sandhill crane migration.

Sure, lots of various kinds of birds migrate annually in the fall to warmer southern areas and in the spring to their northern breeding grounds, but the sandhill crane migration is in a whole other league of travel extravaganzas. But driving along I-80 near Kearney, Nebraska, there are numerous signs both overhead and even posted to let you know “it’s a thing.”  

What makes the spring sandhill crane migration so unique? The vast majority of these cranes that migrate between the southern and northern parts of the continent funnel through a narrow 80-mile-wide portion of central Nebraska along the Platte River. They migrate during a 6- to 8-week period from mid-February to early April. During this time, roughly a million cranes—about 80% of all sandhill cranes in the world—take a respite in this portion of Nebraska.  

The migration from Mexico and the southern states where they winter to their breeding grounds as far north as Alaska and Siberia covers up to 2,500 miles. The cranes migrate mostly during daylight, soaring on thermals, sometimes flying 200-400 miles a day.

The cranes stopover in Nebraska for 2-4 weeks to feed and regain roughly 25% of their body weight before resuming the trek northward in large flocks. This stretch of the central flyway is particularly special because the Platte River there is quite broad, is fairly shallow with numerous sandbars in the middle of the stream where the cranes can roost, and there are abundant farm fields nearby where the cranes can glean corn (90% of their diet) or alfalfa. They can spend daytime in the fields feeding and roost on the river at night, somewhat protected from potential predators.

In early March 2025, I was fortunate to attend a 3-day photo excursion at the Crane Trust facilities near Kearny. The workshop was led by a professional photographer to coach and guide me and five other aspiring photographers. The Crane Trust lets attendees use their constructed hides or blinds along the river’s edge a couple of miles from the visitor center to photograph cranes (and other birds) during the early morning (arriving well before sunrise, 6 AM – 9:30 AM) and early evening (5 PM – 7:30 PM, departing well after sundown) to avoid disrupting the birds’ sense of security.

During the three days I was there, the Crane Trust’s aerial survey of the area along the Platte River estimated there were 583,000 cranes visiting at that time; a week later (the peak of the migration), the survey estimated there were 736,000 cranes then.

Typical sandhill cranes stand 3 to 4 feet tall with a 6-to-7-foot wingspan. A bit ungainly on the ground with their long legs and long neck, they are elegant flyers, often flying in small groups for the day’s foraging outing.

Although there is strength in numbers and the river provides some protection, there remain a variety of possible predators to cause concern, some of which are other birds—eagles, hawks, and owls. So, the cranes tend to huddle up (birds of a feather flocking together) and keep an eye on the movements of other creatures.

And they aren’t alone. The Central Flyway is a route used by many other migrating birds also, e.g., ducks (pintail, merganser, mallards, and wood) and geese (e.g., Arctic or snow, Canada). There were huge numbers of ducks and geese there during our excursion as well.

Sandhill cranes are noted for their loud guttural “song,” but they were no match for the seemingly continuous, extraordinarily noisy calling of the hundreds of snow geese preparing to fly off together each morning before the predawn lightening of the morning sky. These photos below, taken only seconds apart, were greatly brightened in editing so the birds would be visible in the otherwise predawn darkness.

In addition to the cranes, ducks, and geese, there were also a few opportunistic eagles and hawks.

Movements of the eagles usually triggered a scattering response among the cranes—and ducks and geese.

The cranes and other birds get nervous and anxious when potential danger is growing but they let each other know when a hazardous situation is unfolding.

It isn’t so different from us if we follow Christ’s command to love one another. We are instructed to look out for each other, to care for each other. The big difference is that we have a loving God who also wants to ensure our eternal well-being, not just our present life. Knowing our arrival at our final spiritual destination is secure at the end of our material migration (wisps though we are) should be a major source of comfort and peace and relieve us of worry.

“Look at the birds of the air: they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” Matthew 6:26-27.

(Written by Larry Hembroff and illustrated with his original photographs from March, 2025. Thanks for sharing, Larry!)

(P.S.—The migration map is from https://dyckarboretum.org/sandhill-crane-migration-kansas-spectacle/)

Time Away to Think and Pray

Exactly eight months ago, my dear friend Jane Anderson started faithfully contributing blogs each Monday, which I have loved! I hope you have too! She is a very busy wife, mother, grandmother, and friend to multiple dozens of people. She’s active in her church, part of several Bible studies, our writers’ group, and I really have no idea what all!

That being said, she’s off for a month’s vacation in Florida with various friends and family members and has had to take a pause from writing. She doesn’t know if she can keep up the pace, and even more importantly, she’s not sure what the Lord wants for her. Despite her giftedness and love for writing, she’s just not sure if Summer Setting is the right fit. Sadly, I’ve had to open my hands and let her fly. I have no idea what the Lord wants, but if He sends her back to us, I’ll be the first to rejoice! No matter what, I know we’ll always remain steadfast friends! If God doesn’t send her back, then I’ll have to face that when the time comes, but I’m certainly not going to cross that bridge before I have to!

“To you I lift up my eyes,
    O you who are enthroned in the heavens!
Behold, as the eyes of servants
    look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of a maidservant
    to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the Lord our God,
    till he has mercy upon us.”
(Psalm 123:1, ESV)