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When we moved from the farm in the eastern part of Nebraska to the ranch in the Sandhills of Nebraska, the demographics changed. It was the summer before my 6th grade year. I had attended school, up until then, at the Osmond Public School in Osmond, Nebraska. There were 20 kids in my class. Now, I would be attending a country school with twelve in the entire school – grades first through eighth. My class would have the largest number of kids (5) but some classes would only have one. Raven School was 22 miles from the closest town of Ainsworth.

Within a couple of weeks of starting school that fall, Mrs. Pike announced at the end of the day, “Don’t forget, the Bookmobile will be coming tomorrow.”

I leaned over to the classmate beside me. “What’s a Bookmobile?” I asked. She whispered back, “A van that comes every month to bring us books.” Well, that’s good I thought for those that are bookworms. But, I was a picky reader and doubted that a van with a few books would have anything I would be interested in. I had already read the “Little House on the Prairie” series and as far as I knew, that was the extent of what I liked.

A brightly colored minibus tooted it’s friendly horn as it came down the lane to the school. “What’s that about?” I asked. “It’s the Bookmobile!” the other kids yelled. They ran to get in line. Maybe, I had underestimated the Bookmobile. It looked like a promising venture, but too bad they came at recess. I could have done with a little less math class.

As my turn came to step up into the bus, I was amazed at the number of books that lined both sides of the aisle. Shelves and shelves of them. It was like stepping into a mobile library for kids- for indeed, it was just that. I not only found one book that grabbed my interest, but returned to the school with the maximum allotment of three books. I couldn’t wait to get home to tell Mom and Dad about the visiting library on wheels.

With the close of many country schools in the United States, along with budget cuts, functioning bookmobiles are decreasing. The Brown County Bookmobile that visited Raven School traveled it’s last route in the late 80’s. By 2015 bookmobiles across the United States had decreased by more than a third. But along with the few mobile units still in service, there are also private citizens across the globe that have taken up the passion of providing books to rural areas.

One such citizen is Antonio La Cava, a retired schoolteacher, from Italy. He has converted his three-wheeled van into a functioning blue mobile library. He calls it the Bibliomotocarro which in English breaks down to library/books + scooter + cart. He services the remote area of Italy called Basilicata, which sits between the heel and the toe of Italy. He targets the remote villages of less than 1000 people. Antonio encourages writing as well as reading. As he stops in one village, he invites the children to write the first chapter of a story. He collects these chapters and takes them with him to the next village where those children will write chapter two. And on it goes to the next village.

When I read about Antonio, I thought of his obvious gifts – that of teaching and service. He retired from a teaching career, but has not put it on a shelf, so to speak. In fact, he’s done quite the opposite with his multiple shelves of traveling books that he delights to take to others.

We all have spiritual gifts, but it’s not always obvious which ones we have…at least to us. We each possess at least one. (I Peter 4: 10) but it’s often easier for our good friends to see our gifts than it is for us to recognize them. These gifts are given to us by God so that we can build up and encourage other believers (I Cor. 12:31) and further God’s purpose. Through them we channel God’s love to others. Makes sense, as gifts are something we don’t keep – we give them away. We don’t all get the same gifts because there are various tasks to be done, but they all work together in unity to build up the body of believers. James Goll, author and Coordinator of Encounters Alliance, puts it this way: The gifts of the Spirit are like the colors of the rainbow, blending together to achieve the end result.

A few examples of spiritual gifts are: faith, mercy, giving, knowledge, discernment, prophecy, serving, teaching, speaking in tongues, hospitality, wisdom. Romans 12, 1 Cor. 12, and Ephesians 4 all speak about spiritual gifts. If you have difficulty determining yours, ask a close friend that knows you well. Pay attention to what others say you are especially good at. There are also spiritual gift assessments available online. Once we find our gift, we are encouraged to use it to God’s glory.

Knowing that different gifts are given to different people, promotes harmony within the family of God. We should understand that every gift is important…ours, theirs, everyone’s. We could liken it to a stanza of music notes. We know that a middle C has a different job than a high E. They are both equally important within the stanza and we respect what each one contributes, for their differences are what makes the song beautiful.

Keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Do you remember when we would see a dog in a store or a restaurant and know immediately that the person it was accompanying was blind? Along side of the well trained harnessed canine would walk the person – usually with dark glasses and shifting a white cane back and forth in front of them.

Times have changed. I was in Safeway a few weeks ago. I had some business to do at the customer service desk and was idly waiting my turn. I watched as people checked out and headed towards the door, passing closely by me. I wasn’t paying intense attention to anyone until….a small, yellow bobbing head with a big orange beak caught my eye. It was nestled very comfortably it seemed against a woman’s chest. I must have been starring (come on…you would too). She smiled and said, “Would you like to meet my support duck, Millie?”

“I sure would,” I said. “I’ve never met a support duck before.” In all honesty, I was having some difficulty processing this.

“Millie goes with me everywhere I go,” the woman said as she stroked the duck’s head with a finger. “See, I have this sling here,” she says and lifts up an edge of the long scarf draped around her neck, “that Millie rides in.” Inconspicuously, I tried to see if Millie had a diaper on, but the sling made it impossible to tell. Millie was hunkered down like she would be if sitting on a nest. I wasn’t sure how the lady felt about it, but considering I was shopping in a grocery store, I was voting for a diaper. As I finished my business at the counter and was walking out, my thoughts returned to the strange encounter. I wondered what kind of support can a duck give? Maybe they have a real sense of what is better – Jif or Skippy. She probably likes to pick out her own lettuce – I’ve heard ducks won’t eat wilted greens. Oh, and I think they are quite the connoisseurs of fine breads.

Ok, so I’ve poked a bit of fun and giggled about this unusual experience but I really think it’s quite sad. Sad to think there are people so yearning for something that they can’t seem to find, that they will try to find the answer in just about anything, including a 24/7 duck hanging around their neck.

I wish I would have had the opportunity to tell her about the One that goes with me wherever I go. The one who never leaves us or forsakes us. (Joshua 1:5) The one who is always available and bends His ear to hear us. (Psalm 116:2) Maybe God will provide another opportunity to run into Millie and her kind master. I won’t be so flabbergasted and will have a story to tell.

Keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Before my dad’s ranching days when he raised beef, he farmed and raised corn. One of my favorite activities in the spring was to follow behind the plow and pickup fish-worms. They were plentiful and plump in the rich, black soil of Pierce County, Nebraska. Our farm made for a self sufficient fishing operation…fish-worms out the front door and the Elkorn River out the back door.

If you’ve never smelled the aroma of fresh, overturned earth in the damp spring, you’ve missed out. It’s a special…well, earthy smell and to me it’s invigorating. As an adult, I often go to my vegetable garden to get my head straight. After hoeing the rows I leave in a better frame of mind than when I arrive. I thought it was the tranquility, sunshine, and completing a laborious task that had an uplifting effect on me. But now, I learn there is a hidden ingredient in our gardens and plowed fields that contributes to this feeling of well-being. You see, scientists have found that there is a micro-organism called myobacterium vacii that lives in soil, compost, and leaf mold. It is what causes the soil to have that earthy rich aroma and not only that – they have discovered it to be an anti-depressant. When the organism gives off that nice smell it triggers our brain’s neurotransmitters which then release serotonin – known as the happy hormone. Just one tablespoon of soil can contain 50 billion of these microbes. I now look at my potted geranium with a whole new respect! Studies with animals are showing that playing in the dirt may have the same effects as taking Prozac, but without the side effects.

Once my dad had plowed the field, I would watch him plant the corn. Within a couple of weeks, little green shoots would sprout up all across the field. Barring any hailstorms and enough rain, golden kernels of corn would be harvested in the fall.

The seed corn dealers made sure that Dad was given “good” seeds to plant that produced good stalks and good ears. Just as the persons preparing the seed sacks to sell sift the bad seeds from the good seeds, we must sift through the seeds that we plant in our souls. Satan loves nothing better than to scatter seeds of discouragement, doubt, shame, and guilt into our fertile souls. He has devious ways of accomplishing this – through the things we watch on TV or the Internet, the books we read, the friends we keep, the places we go. As Christians,we should choose wisely. Would you be embarrassed to invite Jesus to come in and watch what you’re watching on TV or to accompany you on your evening outing or to look over your shoulder at what you are reading? It can be tempting to start thinking it’s okay when society is moving in a direction away from what God’s Word tells us is true. “Everyone else is doing it.” We must think twice about buying into that kind of seed. Bad seed produces inferior crops. I encourage you to wrap your seeds in scripture, prayer, and Christian friendships that speak encouragement into your lives. These are things that produce good plants and good fruit.

No where will we find better encouragement than in 1 John: 4:4. The One who is living in you is far greater than the one who is in the world. Now that’s a truth to fertilize.

Until two weeks….keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

I’m guessing mothers, as a collective group, share a unique time management technique. Tell me if I’m wrong. For instance… if someone asks me, “What year did you move to Wyoming?” I do some quick and simple math. Daniel started into kindergarten that fall at 5, he was born in 1979, add five and there you have it, 1984.” This works well unless you can’t remember the years your children were born and that’s not a typical mothering trait. We may on occasion forget to pick them up from school or forget to wash their gym clothes, or even forget they don’t like tuna anywhere close to their lunch bag, but we don’t forget the year of their birth.

Our lives are made up of all different types of measurements of time. We understand everything from seconds to centuries and all that’s in between. As we age, our perspective on these different dimensions of time change. As a child, a year seems to drag on like winter in Siberia. When one birthday passed, we knew it would take forever for the next one to come. But now….well, let’s just say they pass by faster than a horse headed for home.

There are times when we are going through a difficult season that we wonder how we are going to survive to the next week or the next month. But here’s the good news – we weren’t designed to take on the cares of a week or a month. All we have to do is make it through one day. ( Matthew 6:34) Author and Pastor Max Lucado says it this way, “Days are the bite-size portions of life, the God designed segments of life management.” That shines a new and welcoming light on things. It’s like conquering a page instead of the entire book.

I used to live a lot in the future. “What’s my life going to look like in a week or a month, or even years down the road.” But I try not to micro-manage these increments so much anymore. No matter what we try to micro-manage – if it doesn’t turn forth the results we wanted, it leaves us frustrated and feeling incompetent. It works much better for me to trust in the Father’s wisdom to manage what’s ahead. Proverbs 16:9 says, A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. Knowing that God, in His infinite wisdom, oversees any plans I make is comforting to me. I will embrace His direction to the best of my ability, for He not only knows the future, but holds it in His hands.

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

The friendly, red and white stuffed bull with a black hat and nose, caught my eye. It sat on the shelf of the Stanosheck Hardware Store and Mortuary in Osmond, Nebraska. The clerk saw my young eyes staring at it. He reached to pull it down. “Let me show you what Ferdinand does,” he said. He tipped the bull backwards and then righted him again. He did just what you would expect any bull to do – he bellowed! I was hooked. I was already enamored with stuffed animals that lived on my full size bed, but they were all the silent type. And, a bull was unique. I’ve always gone for the different and here it was …the cutest smiling, bellowing bull I had ever seen. I must have swallowed the desire to have Ferdinand right then and there because I felt it ooze to the tips of my fingers and toes. From then on out, I reminded Dad of his need for nails, bolts, tools…whenever we went into town. I knew it was just a dream to have Ferdinand as my own, but I still wanted to see him every chance I got.

On July 20th I opened my eyes to a new morning. I wondered what was in store for this special day – my birthday. I rolled over in bed and shrieked with joy. There sitting on my dresser smiling at me was Ferdinand! I jumped out of bed, grabbed my new friend and hugged him tight. He answered back with a deep bellow. Fifty plus years later, while cleaning out Mom and Dad’s house, I found Ferdinand sitting on a shelf again – high in the closet of my old bedroom. I hugged him again and to my surprise he could still bellow.

The intense longing I had for Ferdinand dims in comparison to the desires of the rich man described in Luke 16. He sits in hell pleading to Abraham in heaven to let the beggar, Lazarus, bring him a drop of water to cool his parched tongue. What the rich man experiences is unimaginable desperation; my longing merely a want. Abraham denies the request, telling the rich man that a huge chasm that cannot be crossed lies between heaven and hell.

Most scholars agree that this parable was told by Jesus to teach two things: the dangers in ignoring those in need (as the rich man had when Lazarus sat at his gate hoping the rich man would give him a morsel of food from his table) and to give those in need hope. I get this, but the visual of where these two men live out their eternal lives (forever and ever) is what impacts me the most. It’s almost more than I can bear – to think of anyone I love spending every minute of every day – forever and ever – in torment. (Rev. 14:11)

But, I am also consoled by the truth that no one has to join the rich man if they choose not to. Ah…the golden word – choose. There is eternal security in heaven available for anyone that believes in Jesus Christ. (John 3:16) Not making a decision IS making a decision. You can’t follow Jesus without an affirmative choice to do so. I pray that each one of my readers will choose the best path and enjoy an eternity of blessings.

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