At a very early age, my son Caleb became the voice for a special-needs boy in his kindergarten class who had Down syndrome. He befriended him on the playground, discouraged classmates from making fun of Justin, and encouraged them to be kind instead. Caleb made sure to sit next to Justin during art activities so he could help him with tasks that were challenging—like cutting with scissors. He was always there for Justin during school hours: looking after him, protecting him, and simply being a good friend. There was something special inside Caleb that helped him see beyond Justin’s differences.

Fast forward thirty-eight years, and now Caleb has a special-needs son of his own. His little boy, Dean, has autism and will be starting public school this fall. Our precious Little Dean is nonverbal but very active. His parents have many concerns about what this new environment will look like for him. Isn’t it in our nature to face the unknown with the worst possible thoughts?

When I asked Caleb what he feared most about sending Dean to school, he responded,

“That he’s going to get picked on, teased, beat up, and won’t be able to communicate any of it. I hate that—what a terrible thing for him.”

But God.

I’ve been praying that Dean will have a “Caleb” in his classroom. With the increasing prevalence of autism, I can easily imagine a classmate who has an autistic sibling at home. Maybe that child won’t be fazed by Dean’s unique behaviors like stimming or being nonverbal. Maybe they’ll feel led—just as Caleb did with Justin—to befriend Dean.

I’d like to extend an invitation for you to pray with us for Little Dean. In Matthew 18:20, Jesus says:

“When two of you get together on anything at all on earth and make a prayer of it, my Father in heaven goes into action. And when two or three of you are together because of Me, you can be sure that I’ll be there.” (The Message Bible)

Through this scripture—and many others—we know that God hears our prayers. He doesn’t just sit around. He goes into action. I can’t wait to see what He has planned for Little Dean’s new experience.

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

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FYI: Dean was named after his great-grandfather, Dean. Hence, I call him Little Dean.

According to the CDC, the estimated prevalence of autism among children in the United States in 2022 was 1 in 31. This is up from 1 in 150 in the year 2000. In 1960, the estimate was 1 in 2,500.

It was brought to my attention this week that God often individually customizes His approach to get our attention—especially when He’s hoping to lead us toward Him. For example, when He led the Magi to the Baby Jesus, He used a bright star because they were astrologers. When Paul preached in Ephesus (Acts 19), God worked through him by performing supernatural events. Many of the people in Ephesus were involved in occult practices and were naturally drawn to supernatural phenomena, whether from the demonic realm or from God.

Paul himself, before becoming a Christian, needed a colossal wake-up call. His primary goal in life was to persecute and kill Christians. What better way for Jesus to get his attention than to blind him for three days and personally speak to him? What an example of instantaneous salvation. Paul made a complete turnabout—never persecuting Christians again. Instead, he preached the gospel to thousands, bringing many to Christ.

I thought back to the means God used to influence me to move toward Him. It didn’t take me long to come up with the answer: friends! Being a relational kind of person, He knew there would be no better way than to surround me with friends who would influence me for Him. During my early days in nursing school, I became acquainted with a small group of Christian girls in my class—none of whom I had known previously. For reasons I didn’t understand then (but do now), I was drawn to them.

I began spending more and more time in their company. I was inspired that Sandy, Rose, and ZoAnne talked about Jesus as if He were their best friend. Before I knew it, I wanted that same deep relationship with Him. They became “my bright star” and led me to the Savior.

Stories like these impress upon me just how important each of us is to God—that He would custom design events for us. In Luke 12:7, Jesus tells us that we are so important to God that He even knows the number of hairs on our heads.

Could knowing how deeply He loves us—and how He customizes His approach to each of us—guide how we approach others with the Gospel? Maybe God could be introduced to a homeless person through the gift of a warm coat or a restaurant gift card. Perhaps the neighbor who’s a prominent businessman would respond best to the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14–30). And maybe the friendly waitress at the coffee shop could be introduced to Jesus by complimenting her for her cheerful, servant-hearted attitude—just like the one Jesus taught us to have.

This has given me something to think about this week: How can I custom design my gospel conversations?

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

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When I was very young, I was afraid of the dark—and of the monsters that lived under my bed. I had never seen them, but I might as well have; they were very real in my impressionable mind. I knew they couldn’t be huge creatures, because there was only about twelve inches of space between the floor and the bedframe. Still, I could scoot under there with ease to retrieve my vagrant socks, so they were probably bigger than me! I was convinced they were mean and ugly, with a savoring appetite for little girls with brown eyes, dark hair, and knobby knees.

Mom and Dad bought a little yellow plastic nightlight in the shape of a friendly bear—about the size of a honey bottle. They placed it on my dresser. Whenever I woke up, I could see that there were no ugly beasts standing over me with sharp incisors, a bib around their neck, and a fork in their hand.

The nightlight was helpful, but it didn’t stop me from performing my nightly ritual of always checking under the bed before jumping beneath the sheets.

I eventually outgrew that childish fear, but other fears crept in as I got older. The fear of being picked last for kickball at recess. The fear that my best friend would no longer like me if I didn’t go to camp with her. The fear of standing alone at the high school dance. The fear I wouldn’t make it into nursing school. Once I reached adulthood, there were other worries—would there be enough money at the end of the month to pay the rent, would this or that relationship last, would the call be good news or bad…

Worries and fears were devouring my joy faster than a cormorant swallows a fish. What could I do about it? Maybe it was just my character. But once I became a Christian, I learned that God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). If this spirit of what seemed to be an unhealthy fear—always causing anxiety—is not from God, well… that means it must be coming from our enemy—Satan. I then learned there was something I could do about that. This is spiritual warfare, and I could fight back. James 4:7 tells us to resist the devil, and he will flee from you. I have been known to say out loud, “Get out of here, Satan, in the name of Jesus.” Sometimes I envision an angel kicking the demon—not only to the curb, but all the way down the street. (This gives me great satisfaction.)

I’d like to be able to proclaim that I am now completely worry-free and have no fears. Those irritations do show up from time to time—occasionally on a daily or weekly basis—but now I jump on them and use the tools I’ve been given through the Word of God. It’s a delightful experience to know Satan is hightailing it to who knows where—and who cares?

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

I’m a black-and-white kind of person, especially when it comes to making decisions. I want to make sure, to the best of my knowledge, that it’s a good decision before I commit to it. I like to sleep on it—the bigger the decision, the more nights I prefer to ponder it. Then, throughout the day, I’ll ruminate on it some more. I hate having to make expedient decisions on major issues just as much as I detest crawling into the crawl space beneath my home with the mice, spiders, and who knows what else.

One of these kinds of decisions had to be made when we bought the house I’m currently in. It seemed like a good fit when we toured it, but as is customary for me, I wanted time to “think” on it. Time I didn’t have; another offer was on the table. The clock was ticking. Time crunches are not in my comfort zone! Within a couple of hours (my eyes tightly squinted and my jaw clenched), we gave an offer. This is the only time I can remember making such a rapid decision on a spur-of-the-moment basis. I’m happy to report that the purchase turned out well, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t holding my breath the entire time.

Just this month, I was given a different perspective on making these kinds of important decisions. In Chris Tiegreen’s devotional entitled Hearing His Voice, he begins one entry by talking about Abram. The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your country, your relatives, and your father’s house, and go to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1). So Abram departed as the Lord had instructed him (verse 4). There’s no mention that Abram had to think about it or sleep on it. He didn’t question whether it was really God who had spoken, and he didn’t shrug it off. He just went with it. He had faith to believe it would work out.

It made me wonder how many times I may have thought I heard God but didn’t have enough faith to go with it. Instead, I wanted to ponder, weigh all the pros and cons, and then fell into that trap of dead uncertainty, failing to move forward.

Chris Tiegreen goes on to say, “If we want to hear God’s voice, we need to understand that He will not speak so definitely that no faith is required to follow.” Why hadn’t I figured this out before? Of course God would want us to show we had faith in Him. What I was really showing was that I had a fear of acting on faith.

I don’t anticipate that I will ever be the sort who enjoys making hurried decisions, but I will hesitate and ask myself if this is a decision I’m afraid to make because I’m reluctant to trust in God. If that’s the case, then that’s what I need to spend time pondering.

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

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My uncle found an old upright piano sitting in a barn. It was in pretty good shape for the company it kept. My aunt and uncle didn’t have children, but Uncle Cliff’s niece came to mind. She needed a piano; her grandmother on the other side of the family was a piano teacher after all. With all those free lessons she had the potential to become a concert pianist. And that’s how that haunting black monster came to my house. My mother didn’t like the look of it, either. She tore into that thing and after many months transformed it into a warm cinnamon- honey color. The color now gave it a welcoming appeal, but I wasn’t fooled.

I imagine my grandma wanted me to be the best student she ever had, but I’m quite sure I was the worst. Whenever I sat down on that disgustingly hard piano bench my thoughts began to taunt me. What can I say? I’m an outdoorsy kind of girl at heart.  It didn’t help that I could see my brother out the window digging fishworms and tossing them into the red coffee can we used when heading to the creek. The kitchen timer Mom had turned to 30 minutes wasn’t even moving.   

When I turned 70 this past July, I began having different kinds of thoughts. Thoughts of wishing I had paid attention when Grandma was trying her darndest to advance me beyond Thompson’s beginner’s books. I even mentioned to my Youth Group (a mixed Bible study group of which I’m the youngest – named as a joke) that I was toying with the idea of getting a keyboard. One friend in the group graciously offered to let me borrow hers to try out for a while to see if I liked it.

I found I did enjoy having my friend’s keyboard and decided I would watch for a nice used one on Marketplace. A few days before I was to return my friend’s instrument, another friend in my Youth Group called and asked if I was still interested in getting a keyboard. “I sure am,” I said. “I’m watching for one to pop up on Marketplace.”

“I have a deal for you. A woman I sit beside in the choir at the Senior Center asked me if I knew of anyone wanting a nice keyboard,” Jan said. “She wants to give it away to someone that would use it.”

Wow! Do I feel blessed! Psalms 115:13 says: He will bless those who fear the Lord – small and great alike.  It occurred to me that God does care about even the smallest details in our lives and wants to bless us with things that bring joy.  We only need to be mindful of where the gifts come from and be thankful.  James 1:17 says: every good and perfect gift comes from above. I have no doubt His hand was in this.

I’ll never be a concert pianist, but I may get polished enough to play and sing along with the hymns in my old red hymn book. In my mind I see Grandma smiling with a grateful song in her heart.

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