Nothing stirs up memories like a death. This month, I lost my last remaining uncle. We were blessed to enjoy his life for ninety-three years. A lot of memories can be gathered in that amount of time. He and I shared a love of writing, and even though we lived states apart, we stayed connected through that common interest and our love for family.

The week he passed, I thought a lot about the memories I had formed with Uncle Wendell. One of the first I remember was when I was four years old. Because my dad owned a stock truck, Mom and Dad helped Uncle Wendell and Aunt LeVila move from Nebraska to Wisconsin. I perched between my parents on a big black case. From there, I could see out the windshield and through the smaller window behind me, where I could keep an eye on all my aunt and uncle’s belongings. It was my job to holler if anything tumbled out. But that wasn’t always enough to keep me from being bored. When my parents grew tired of containing an antsy four-year-old in those cramped quarters, I was allowed (or pushed off) to ride with my aunt and uncle. To me, that seemed like a real treat.

A warning popped up on my phone, interrupting my pleasant memory of riding with Uncle Wendell and Aunt LeVila. “Your Voicemail folder is nearly full,” it read. I began going through the messages and deleting most of them. Then one from a close friend appeared. He had sent it on April 4, 2025, hoping to reach me about some banking business. I knew it would stir up emotions if I listened to it, but I wanted to hear his voice again.

A lump formed in my throat as he spoke. As I continued listening, I wanted so badly to believe he was still here with us. For those few brief seconds, I was saddened by my loss. Thankfully, I didn’t linger long on that sorrowful note, as pleasant memories soon began crowding out the sadness. Our families had shared so many wonderful times together!

Dr. Seuss once said, “Sometimes you never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” I look back on all the great moments I shared with my uncle and my friend—moments I never gave much thought to when they happened—and now they mean so much.

I’m convinced that memories are one of the greatest gifts God has given us. What else would allow us to live a wonderful moment one thousand times over? A picture can help, but it captures only a visual image. Memory digs deep into our minds and can envelop all the senses. For instance, some of my most cherished memories of my grandmother are the smell of her soap and the sound of her playing the piano.

We know that God considered memory important; otherwise, words such as “memory,” “remember,” “recall,” “remembrance,” and “do not forget” would not appear some 1,200 times throughout Scripture.

I may not recall things as quickly as I once did, but I’m grateful for the things I do remember. It’s a great day when special moments from the past are brought to the forefront of our minds and we get to relive them once again.

Until next time… keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’.

Generosity comes more easily to some than to others. From what I’ve seen, whether it is given freely or with great sacrifice, it touches hearts just the same. I’d like to share a personal story about being the recipient of a near stranger’s generosity—and the gratitude that settled deep within my heart for this man and his wife.

Country Magazine was a colorful publication from several years ago. As its name implies, it focused on country living, filled with beautiful photographs and homegrown stories. They accepted a piece I had written about the simple grace of the clothesline for their May 2008 edition. The story was even paired with a front-cover image of clothes gently dancing in a sunny breeze.

A couple of weeks after the article appeared, I received an appreciative email from a man named Earl in upper Michigan. He shared how the story stirred memories of fresh-smelling sheets on his boyhood bed and of dashing to the clothesline when the first drops of a summer storm caught his mother’s attention. Earl and I continued to exchange emails now and then, often sharing photos of the countryside—Earl in Michigan and me in Wyoming.

A few years later, as Stan and I talked about taking a vacation somewhere new, we decided on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. We had recently seen beautiful pictures of the area in Country Magazine. As we leaned over maps and searched online for places to visit, I thought of Earl.

“I’m going to email Earl and see if he can give us some pointers on what to see and do,” I said to my husband.

I received a reply almost immediately. Not only did Earl offer suggestions, but he and his wife, Rachel, also wanted to meet us. It felt exciting to finally put a face to the man who had sent that thoughtful email so many years before.

We agreed to meet at a casino in Christmas, Michigan, just a few miles from their home. They were a delightful retired couple, and by the time we finished our meal, it felt as though we had known each other for years. Rachel had another commitment that afternoon, but Earl insisted on showing us some of the area’s scenic highlights—including the Pictured Rocks along the shores of Lake Superior. We ended up spending the entire afternoon together.

As the day drew on, Earl asked, “Where will you be staying tonight?”

After a full day of sightseeing, we were ready to settle in. We told him we planned to stay in Christmas for the night and head out in the morning.

“Well then,” he said, “if Rachel and I weren’t leaving early ourselves, you could stay with us. But since we are, we’re going to book you a suite at the Holiday Inn so you can enjoy Lake Superior right outside your window.”

Earl simply would not take no for an answer. We were overwhelmed by such generosity from a couple who, until that day, had been little more than email acquaintances.

Whenever I hear a sermon, read a story, or study scripture about generosity, you can imagine who comes to mind. I will never forget what Earl and Rachel did for us or the impact they had on our hearts. They went far beyond anything we could have expected. The day we spent with Earl—experiencing his kindness, generosity, and warmth—became our favorite memory of our trip to the Upper Peninsula.

I have no doubt their lives are richly blessed because of the way they give to others. Psalm 112:5 reminds us that good will come to those who are generous and lend freely. Earl and Rachel do that so well.

Until next time…keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’.

The world seems to be changing so fast; I just want to lasso it and pull it back to where it was forty years ago, when I could keep up with it. Every day brings changes that must be navigated. I go to the grocery store, only to find everything rearranged. The computer program I comfortably used yesterday has been revamped overnight. And now I discover I haven’t even been brushing my teeth at the “optimum” time each morning. Instead of brushing after breakfast, I should apparently be brushing as soon as I get out of bed to rid my mouth of all the bacteria that moved in overnight.

We are faced with changes in ideology, technology, health, stock markets, and fashion trends faster than I can keep up. “World…slow down!”

Recently, I’ve noticed ads popping up on my phone for apps that help you manage or cancel subscriptions. I wasn’t even aware there was a need for such a thing. I have one subscription, and there’s not much to manage. Once a year, I receive a notice in the mail that it’s about to expire. I have a simple choice: I can mail in another check to renew it for another year, or I can ignore the notice and stop receiving the magazine. Very straightforward.

What I did find, however, with a little research, is that millennials (ages 30 to 45) might have a definite need for these types of apps. This age group is the largest consumer of subscriptions. My internet research indicates that millennials spend an average of $276 a month on subscriptions—38% more than the average baby boomer. In my personal case, because I take advantage of Guideposts’ $10 special offer, that percentage jumps to 2,660%! And since my husband and I spend more time reading than watching TV, we choose not to subscribe to streaming services.

In a world with so many changing elements, it comforts me to know there is one thing we can count on to never change: God Himself. In the Old Testament, the Lord puts it bluntly: “I am the LORD, and I do not change” (Malachi 3:6). And in the New Testament, it says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

We never need to worry about God changing His ideas, His opinions, or His plan for our lives. He is our constant—our anchor. Although countless things may be changing all around us, He does not. What He has written in the Bible is just as applicable today as it was 2,000 years ago. No wonder it’s called the Living Word.

What I read in the Bible is something I can take to the bank. I can stand firm on His promises. I can’t get that same assurance from magazines or television.

Until next time…keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’.

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“Trample on any hint of guidance that conflicts with what God has already revealed,” says Chris Tiegreen (editor of Walk Thru the Bible) in his devotional Hearing His Voice.

This past year, I felt God speak to me through a specific Scripture. I wasn’t expecting anything unusual that morning as I read in Amos. But then… a verse seemed to leap off the page, as if to say, “I’m speaking directly into your life.” The prophetic passage was about the restoration of Israel, yet I knew it was also about a severed relationship in my own life that He wanted to restore.

I was taken aback. In that distinct moment, I knew God was speaking personally and unmistakably to me. The conviction followed me throughout the day, pressing in on me like batter in a waffle iron. I had never experienced such a clear declaration from God regarding my personal life. It felt steady and unwavering. I knew that if I didn’t follow through, I would be walking in disobedience.

When I shared my intention to act on what I believed God was directing me to do, most people were very supportive. A few, however, voiced concerns. The encouragement confirmed what I already sensed — that this was God’s will for me.

Unfortunately, there have been consequences from those who disagreed… even the loss of a few relationships. That grieves me. Yet the sadness has been replaced with God’s perfect peace, knowing I am walking in the center of His will. The confirmation continues as He blesses the restored relationship each day. We praise Him daily for what He was willing to do on our behalf.

Listen to how Peter and the apostles responded when the Sanhedrin demanded they stop teaching about Jesus: “We must obey God rather than human beings” (Acts 5:29). If we truly desire to be in the center of God’s will, we must be willing to do the same.

Until next time, keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’.

This story would have taken place in the early 1960s, when I was first getting a good grasp on reading simple words. I figure it was second grade—give or take a year. Wanting to improve her students’ reading skills, our teacher gave us an assignment.

“Pick out a favorite book at home,” she instructed, “to read to the rest of the class. Bring your book to class on Monday to share with us.”

My excessively timid personality hated the sound of that wretched assignment. I could think of nothing worse than standing in front of the entire class and reading. I quickly dismissed the ugly thought from my mind, opting instead to think of pleasant weekend adventures.

I successfully blocked it out until Sunday night, near bedtime. Then the assignment came rushing back to me.

“Oh no!” My gut fell to my knees.

“Mom,” I wailed, “I forgot. I have to pick out my favorite book to read to the class tomorrow.” By now, tears were streaming down my cheeks. “I haven’t practiced, and this is in front of the whole class. I can’t do this.”

A sense of urgency to solve this problem—and to be done with it forever—settled on me like fleas on a mangy dog.

Thank goodness moms seem to have an intuitive instinct that can guide their children to a better perspective in difficult times. As Mom wiped my tears with a crumpled tissue she pulled from her pocket, she asked what my favorite book was.

The Little Red Hen, I replied with no hesitation and a few fewer sobs. The loose pages, bent corners, and scratched cover of the small Golden Book attested to the fact that I had read it so many times I could recite it from memory.

That’s it! If I got too nervous to read it, I could just recite it and try to remember to turn the pages as I went.

I’ve had episodes of urgency since that time, but none have been as pronounced as this one. Yet there is a far greater reason for urgency in our world today than the one caused by a Little Golden Book so many years ago. Many biblical scholars are acknowledging that the signs may suggest we are in our last days.

A sense of urgency should grip our hearts for our unbelieving loved ones. It is a time to fervently pray that their hearts would be ready to hear the Good News—and to respond to it.

Until next time—keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’.