Speaking at My Alma Mater--AWC Alumni Service

Back in July while we were working up in Alaska, I was surprised when a message came to my phone, asking if I would consider going back to Allegheny Wesleyan College to speak for this year's Harvest Day and alumni service. This year the classes of 1961, 71, 81, 91, '01, and '11 were to be honored. My graduating class was 30 years ago--hard to believe! Jonathan thought I should accept the invitation, and three and a half months later, I could hardly believe myself to be sitting back in the dining hall of AWC with dozens of other alumni at the alumni banquet!

Here we are with Margaret Durfee and her daughter Jeanne who was registrar when I was a student there. The Durfees and I both ended up in Ukraine 28 years ago where they were the ones to urge me give Jonathan a chance when he wrote me his first letter! And don't we get to sit across from them at a table last weekend, along with Eunice Knight. (And Timmy, who drove all the way from Penn View in PA to be with us that night, took the picture for us!)

We hadn't expected to go riding around in a bright red Prius with an engine that hardly made any noise, but that is what the rental car company gave us to use. We had found a non-stop flight from Denver to Columbus, OH, which kept being delayed and the gates changed at least twice, until we wondered if our flight was one of those which the pilots were walking out on because of the unconstitutional mandates. But thankfully, although the flight next to ours seemed to be completely canceled, ours on Frontier left, just two hours late.

Our sweet niece Katie (Hoshea's daughter) gave us a place to stay overnight at Andrew's and her home, with their dear new baby Thursday night before heading up to Salem. 

This enormous new all-purpose building (D. R. Kaufman Memorial Building) was waiting to scare the wits out of me!

Except--I wasn't scared. 

I was just at home, that 's all.

Home with lots of people I knew, including my former pastor, Michael Marshal who was my pastor when I was student teaching at Indiana Wesleyan School in PA. He is the one sitting next to me on the platform, and he was a graduate 10 years before me, so he was the other speaker.

We each were given 5 to 7 minutes!

Jonathan got this picture just before service. The choir director, Don Quales is next to Bro. Marshall, then Seth Troyer, who is alumni vice-president, and Doug Strawn, alumni president. And I am sitting there on the end where Doug suggested I might be more comfortable rather than right in the middle of all the guys!!! At AWC, people are so kind, thoughtful, and considerate, and that is just one example of it. I told in my little "speech" how I could not remember a single unkindness the whole time I was at AWC. 

Bro. Mike Marshall shared how he came to AWC as a hillbilly from West Virginia with a strut that the Lord tempered when he was sanctified.

I shared memories of how the Lord called me to go to AWC, how my mom sensed the same call in her devotions, how I loved AWC, except for the night the masked monster knocked on my door in the dorm and I clobbered it over the head with an umbrella, only to discover it was just another girl in the dorm!

I found out after service that I was not the only one who remembered that story! Young girls in the service had been told this story by their mother, Eunice Rambo, at whose door the monster had first knocked. 

This story has gone down in history!

I also told about the "prophecies" the junior class did for my senior class, and shared how some parts of those prophecies had actually come true--including the one where they said Anna Morley would have a set of books published!

The choir sang several songs, and the ensemble played some songs, too.

Rachel Sanders took this photo of us three. Wish my whole family could have been there!

Just before service, a new young man at the college greeted Jonathan and me as we were seating ourselves near the front at the middle aisle. He seemed quite impressed with Jonathan's beard, saying loudly, with a flourish, "See here, folks! This is how a man is supposed to look!"

Here are three of us from my class--Andy and Shirleen Troyer and myself. One classmate of ours, Jill Riddle Miles, went to be with the Lord a number of years ago, from ovarian cancer. Another has been pastoring, and another I am not sure where she is.

Playing the trumpet is the son of Jonathan's friend Ken Lefever, Christopher, while our friend Eunice Knight's boy, Kenton, is playing the bass fiddle.

It was an amazing evening!

Golden Aspen--and The Rock that Is Higher Than I

   Last week one day, on the way for some of the children to pick up a friend, some of our family spent a couple hours hiking in the foothills of Pikes Peak where the aspen were turning gold.

I had been missing time away since I usually end up staying home when the others go hunting or camping with friends and cousins. So I asked for just a couple day trips as I didn't have the energy to pack for a whole weekend in a travel trailer.

"It doesn't take much to make me happy," I told my family on one of our hikes,

  as we started down a path under aspen trees, with leaves blowing everywhere. 

How I enjoyed the refreshing smell of cool earth with autumn leaves softly fallen upon it!

 It seemed we could just forget some of our cares for a short time, such as the cares about my mom who had been ill for several days and about my dad who is having struggles with dialysis, and my niece who keeps failing more and more, and Jonathan's parents who find it harder and harder to climb any steps.

My mom had been sick for days and didn't write her usual emails or type any hymns that she sometimes types to share with family. So instead one day I was the one to type the hymn, one of Dad's old favorites, and mine, too, "The Rock That Is Higher Than I."

"O sometimes the shadows are deep,

And rough seems the path to the goal,

And sorrows, sometimes how they sweep'

Like tempests down over the soul!

O then to the Rock let me fly, to the Rock that is higher than I;

O then to the Rock let me fly, to the Rock that is higher than I.

O sometimes how long seems the day,

And sometimes how weary my feet;

But toiling in life's dusty way,

The Rock's blessed shadow, how sweet!

O near to the Rock let me keep,

If blessings or sorrow prevail,

Or climbing the mountain way steep,

Or walking the shadowy vale.

O then to the Rock let me fly, to the Rock that is higher than I;

O then to the Rock let me fly, to the Rock that is higher than I.

Fighting the Fire at Birds Eye View

Friday a few miles away at Birds Eye View, an electrical problem caused a fire that burned a home and over 20 acres. 

Our Sam was right in the thick of it, spending most of two days fighting the fire and digging a fire break control line. He was one of over 50 firefighters working all day Saturday to keep the fire from spreading.

Danny noticed the smoke first, over the bluffs to the northeast of us. When I called Sam, he was already hurrying this way from work nearly an hour across town. Jonathan had been working way across town as well, on a home up the mountain on Old Stagecoach Road , and he'd driven up a little bit where he saw smoke rising on the horizon in the distance and took this picture. 

Meanwhile, I listened to Danny and Hannah who were begging to go see the fire. They were done with school, so away we went. And this below is what we saw!

 Sheriffs and fire trucks and ambulances were hurrying in from every direction, evacuating people from two miles around the fire.

Many were just sitting on the road waiting. They would not be allowed back to their homes till Saturday. Sam walked through smoke so dense he couldn't see the ground and felt dizzy.

A big water tanker met us on old Peyton Highway.

Later that evening, Sam texted to let us know that helicopters were busy dipping water out of a pond in a 500-gallon bucket, and would we like to come watch?

Can you see it flying in the sky?

Now it is flying back toward the smoke and fire.

Sam got this picture (above) from where he was on the ground.

Danny tried to get pictures with his camera.

By evening, the fire had settled down and smoke was not too bad, but there would be many hours of work to get the fire contained.

Danny snapping photos of the helicopters.

This afternoon, we took a ride back to Birds Eye View now that the road was opened back up, and we saw the charred mess. 

"I heard something popping," the homeowner of the destroyed house said. "And when I looked, the porch of the house was on fire." Before the first fire truck could arrive, the fire had burned half the house and had spread to the grass and trees. And the fire truck only had 500 gallons of water. In the tinder dry area, the fire spread fast. It was wise to work fast and furiously, calling in air support, to put it out.

Before it became a Waldo Canyon Fire, or Hayman fire, or Black Forest Fire. 

"Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindles! And the tongue is a fire..."  May we be part of the teams that work to squelch the fires that spread and destroy from the wrong use of our tongues.

Forsaken Kitten Finds Jonathan's Lap

 Jonathan is not a great fan of cats, and neither is he particularly fond of kittens, no matter how cute they are.

But when three little kittens were found by Hannah in the barn because their mama had temporarily forsaken them, and when they came mewing desperately up to our feet, even Jonathan's heart was touched so much that he reached right down and picked one up!

Those poor kittens were hungry as bears, and Hannah gladly warmed some goat milk to share in a little bitty bowl with those crying kittens! 

"Can a mother forget her nursing infant?" God asked in the prophet Isaiah. "Yes, they may forget; yet will I not forget you!" Though a mother herself may forget, God won't. We are written on His hands.

He hears when we feel forsaken, lonely, rejected, hungry, or discouraged. He sees when we run every which way wondering where to find comfort or courage or sustenance. And like the man of the house who couldn't resist those desperate mews, He picks us up and holds us in His hands.

"When my mother and my father forsake me, then the Lord will take care of me." Psalm 27: 10

Sweet, Rich Country Cider!

 A couple weeks ago the children spent most of the day picking apples in several places in Denver. You wouldn't believe that people from the country have to go to the city to get apples, but there are few or no apples out here on the high prairie.

And there are lots of loaded trees in Denver and Colorado Springs! Carrie found some on Craig's List, and then they just drove around and asked at a place or two.

One place had three trees, and the people were only too happy to see someone use them.

The very next day, the children set up the cider press and after school, we all began to help get ready for cider pressing.

The girls had invited several families, because we had about 22 bushels of apples, and there would be plenty of work and cider for all!

People from three different families showed up, and some of them were really good workers who spent the whole evening helping!

 It was a fun chance for the children to have some time with some of their friends.

Thanks to my brother-in-law Kenn for letting us have the cider press he'd made, when they moved.

 Here comes the cider!

 

We did up about 54 gallons!

Nothing like homemade apple cider, fresh from the press!

Working on into the darkness with headlamps!

When a Thoughtful Act Is Returned to You

 A few days ago I was on my way to the door of the post office at the same time as a man ahead of me. He was well ahead of me--enough that he could have gone in and the door would have shut and I still would not have arrived at the door yet. 

I thought he would go on into the post office, but he did not. He stood there by the door, waiting.

"He isn't waiting this long just to hold the door for me, is he?" I wondered. 

But, yes, he was. 

I had rarely had someone wait that long to hold a door for me.

I thanked him and went inside, and then I turned to him and said, "You were ahead of me. You can go first."

He shook his head. "It's okay!" he said cheerfully. "I'm not in a hurry."

And so I stood in line ahead of him even though he had arrived first at the door.

Well ahead of me. 

But something about what he said to me rang a bell.

I had heard that statement only a couple days earlier: "I'm not in a hurry."

 I remembered back suddenly to the evening when I was checking out of Walmart where I had a whole big cart of groceries. Behind me stood a man with just a few things in his cart.

"You go ahead of me," I had offered. "You only have a few things and I have a lot!"

He remonstrated at first, but I insisted, saying, "I am not in a hurry," and he moved ahead of me.

Now, strangely, only days later, the same kindness was being returned to me. Practically word for word!

Truly, as God's Word says, we reap what we sow; and how good it feels to reap kindness!