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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’.

My sister, Connie, lives on the family ranch. She is very involved in the daily activities that happen on a ranch. She rides a horse as well as anyone. She fixes fence as well as anyone. She backs the truck up to the horse trailer perfectly on her first attempt. She pulls calves, vaccinates calves, and ear-tags calves. Most of her day is spent outside helping her husband run the ranch.

It’s nearly impossible to reach her on the phone. She carries one, but it only works if you catch her on top of a hill.

Most of our calls happen when she is on her way to town to get repairs, a haircut, or fulfill a doctor’s appointment. She can utilize those thirty miles to catch up on calls. Even then, she often loses service. Unfortunately, we often go for weeks before we talk to each other. Neither one of us like that—but that’s life. It’s easy to get disconnected when you can’t connect!

Then one morning, I read a one-page devotional about the eight-minute phone call. The writer of the devotional references an author, Jancee Dunn, who proposes the power of an eight-minute phone call. Ms. Dunn believes these short calls can help us connect with family and friends.

The next time I talked to Connie, I told her what I had read. I asked her if she thought we could find an eight-minute window somewhere in the week to connect. She was enthused, too. I was ecstatic.

“You pick the time and day,” I said, “since I’m more flexible.”

“Let’s do Mondays at noon my time—eleven yours. I’ll call, but if I forget, you call me.”

She hasn’t forgotten to call once, and we’ve been doing it for a month now. Sometimes we exceed eight minutes, and that’s okay if we both have the time. When it’s necessary to keep it short, we hit on the week’s highlights and a prayer request or two and call it good. After all, we’ll be talking again in a week. We are connecting!

I feel that we are living out 1 Thessalonians 5:11: “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” And boy, does that feel good!

Such a simple little thing—eight minutes a week. But what a positive difference it makes for us. Connie and I have both shared how we look forward to these calls. There is power in them—just as author Jancee Dunn said.

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

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I’m writing this month’s blog on Thanksgiving Day. It’s a quiet, no-fuss kind of holiday for the two of us. The turkey breast is in the oven, the potatoes are laid out and ready to be tossed in the pan when the time is right, and the cranberry sauce sits beside the colorful bowl I’ll slide it into at the last minute. Just enough tradition to make it feel like Thanksgiving. Later, we may venture the few blocks to Perkins for pie and coffee.

It’s quite a contrast from the Thanksgivings I remember growing up. Mom’s table—extended with every leaf—was surrounded by grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins. It was a joyful time of being together, catching up with one another’s lives, and sharing a sense of camaraderie. Thanksgiving tables come in all sizes, and that’s alright. My concern is the empty chair at the table—the one where an estranged person used to sit but, for whatever reason, no longer does.

Estrangement refers to the loss of affection and fellowship that was once shared with another. This phenomenon is on the rise. Karl Pillemer, a professor at Cornell University and author of Fault Lines: Fractured Families and How to Mend Them, found that in 2020, 27% of Americans over the age of 18 were estranged from a family member. And it’s not only in the U.S. that we’re seeing this trend. Any country whose culture prioritizes personal happiness and individual choice over respect for parents and elders is experiencing a similar rise. One estranged mother responded proactively and launched a website: RejectedParents.net. It now attracts 60,000–70,000 visitors per month, with numbers spiking around the holidays. She also opened a moderated peer-support forum, which currently boasts more than 8,100 members.

Most parent–adult child estrangements are initiated by the child. Many reasons can be given for creating distance, but in most cases, it stems from a long-simmering issue. Millennials and Gen Z have been more willing to initiate “no-contact” relationships with parents than previous generations.

As a parent of adult children, my sympathies naturally lie with the parents. And as an older adult, I grew up with the idea that family is forever. I can imagine what it would feel like if one of my children issued a “no-contact” order against me. I’m not saying there is never a valid reason—such as ongoing abuse of any kind—but in many cases, could other steps be taken before resorting to something so drastic? Could forgiveness and healthy boundaries be explored before complete separation? In any case, my heart goes out to anyone who must endure the empty chair at the Thanksgiving table. It’s no surprise that heartache is tightly yoked with estrangement.

If you remember the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11–32, the youngest son—full of his own importance—took his inheritance and left his father and older brother behind in search of greater things. He squandered everything his father had given him. Only when he was reduced to eating with the pigs because he couldn’t afford anything else did he realize how good he had had it at his father’s house. He repented and returned home to beg for a job as a servant.

How did his father react?
“And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20, NLT)

The father then instructed the servants to bring the finest robe in the house and put it on his son. A great feast followed in celebration of his return.

Maybe I’m a wishful thinker, but I believe most parents would feel the same way if their “no-contact” child returned seeking reconciliation. Very likely, forgiveness and understanding are needed on both sides. God is a God of healing, and don’t we all long for healthy relationships? With Him leading us, anything is possible (Matthew 19:26). God is also a God of hope. Just as the father in Luke 15 once again saw his son, it’s possible for those empty chairs around our holiday tables to be filled again. That will be something to celebrate!

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

If you follow my blog, you know that I’ve written about my five-year-old autistic, nonverbal grandson a couple of times over the past few months. Because of those posts, I recently received an invitation to speak at the Moms’ Life Group at our church. The goal of my talk is to give young moms ideas on how to encourage their children to include special needs children in their circle of friends.

Speaking to groups is definitely not in my comfort zone. You may remember that I chose my nursing school because it was the only one in the state that didn’t require me to take Speech in high school. I don’t deny that I probably needed that class more than any other, but at the time… I would have changed my career path rather than enroll in Speech.

It has taken me decades to rein in my fear of public speaking. Even now, it feels as though the horse beneath me still pulls against the bit—thankfully, with less force than before. Maybe one day I’ll be able to give the horse his head and actually enjoy the ride.

I still remember how hard I practiced to conquer my first speaking engagement. I had been coerced into co-teaching six weeks of Lamaze classes. I’d sit cross-legged (when that was still an easy feat) on the living room floor with index cards fanned out in front of me like sunrays. How could this come so easily to some people? I was terrified! Over the years, I’ve settled more comfortably into the saddle with each talk, but my anxious thoughts still raise my heart rate and make my palms sweat. Was it really that important to do this? Maybe reaching outside your comfort zone is overrated, I reasoned.

So why did I immediately tell the Moms’ Life director that I would speak to these young mothers? Only one reason—the subject is deeply personal and important to me. It’s something I can do for Dean, even though I live halfway across the country from my grandson. And even more important than building confidence within myself, I might be making a difference for a special needs child in a classroom right here in Spearfish. If even one mom encourages her child to reach out to a classmate with special needs, my discomfort will be completely worth it. We’ll all win in the end.

When I need a little extra encouragement, I look no further than Hebrews 10:24: “Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” (NIV)

We all have our fears. I bet yours is worth conquering too—for your sake and for others’.

Until next time… keep on readin’, and I’ll keep on writin’ (right here from my comfort zone).

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