"Fire Every Direction I Look"

"There's fire every direction I look," were the last words for a while that my son Sam texted his wife as he was in the middle of a fast and furious wildfire that was burning hundreds of acres between Matheson and Limon, CO. The fire was between roads we travel on all the time in Colorado. 

When I messaged Sam's mother-in-law wondering if Sam had any update since he had sent pictures earlier on his way back from work to join firefighters, she told me about this message.

I got just a little worked up. I am just his mom, not even his expectant wife, but I got a little worked up. 

I went to the window and prayed and then I told myself that Sam would enjoy his adventure, but his training would kick in and he'd follow protocols for safety. 

Plus, if he thought he were about to burn up, he would surely have finished his text with "I love you."

But then, being Sam, maybe not. He's like his dad and assumes everything is going to be all right, and usually it is. 

We could see three graders in the photo, plowing a fire break along one of the roads. At least eleven fire departments were on this fire, and they kept it from jumping Rt. 71 and saved at least three structures and homes. 

When I asked Sam later if he were personally involved in saving the homes, he said no, but that he had saved some dry grass and at least one tumbleweed!!! Rose sent a teary-eyed kitty emoji in response, telling him "I'm so proud of you!")

But yesterday with winds of 50 mph, no one knew how bad this fire would become. 

Here in South Dakota, Danny was welding church porch railings at Martin, but had to quit yesterday because the wind was bad here, too. With the severely dry conditions, we couldn't risk starting a fire with one spark from welding. 

We couldn't afford to have something like this happen. It was a relief to know Sam was safe later, though he did not return home till late that night, only to have to be out for another 2 1/2 hours on an accident call, and then leave again in the morning to help "mop up" at the fire scene.  Sam worked for hours to completely put out a haystack smoldering, and other firemen worked on a big smoldering mess that was still burning in a ditch and could easily start another fire. The fire was mapped at about 10 miles long and a mile wide, covering 5500 acres. Bad, but not as terrible as the fires burning in Oklahoma, Kansas, and Texas. Jonathan found a map online showing all the fires burning right now in our country. It is disastrous and if only our country would turn back to God and pray. 

Today Danny did more welding and worked inside, and then told us stories from a workman he works with, whose cousin was beaten and stabbed yesterday and ended up in the  Rapid City hospital. He also told us about a drunk man across the street from the fire department where Danny was in training the other evening. The drunk was hollering questions to a fellow fireman, and asking if he wanted a hug. 

The fireman assured him he did not want a hug, but the others just had to rib him about all that!

Supper time is a great time to share all the things that happen in our days. And it is good that not all news is bad. Rose and Tom keep in touch with delightful pictures of dear little Ellie who constantly brings smiles into our lives and our world. 

I am so grateful for many things to keep my mind busy and occupied so that I do not focus so much about cancer and chemo. Fires give me something to blog about! 

Now this morning as I add on a bit here, I re-read the first chapter of I Peter that we listened to on our way to my chemo appointments yesterday. A verse that stood out to me today was about the "genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ."

Lord, give me a faith, which though tested by fire, may be found to Your praise and honor and glory for Christ's sake." Amen.

If you want to contact me

I am having trouble figuring out why I can't reply to comments, but in a recent comment, one mom asked for my email, so for a day or two I will post it. 

 

prairielucas@gmail.com

The above bouquet is one I ordered (from the extended Lucas family) for my sister-in-law Ruth Lucas and her mother upon the recent death of her father, Mr. Beitzel. I loved how the florist in Ohio did what I asked in adding butterflies in place of some flowers. The bouquet is one of the prettiest I've ever seen. The florist sent me a photo of it. 

We have also been keeping an eye on the posts from the Stratton family upon the passing of their father, Dale Stratton. We know the entire family and are lifting them to the Lord during this time. 

I am back from a very long day to Sioux Falls for a couple medical appointments...and enjoyed half a luscious grapefruit I'd bought plus a piece of gingerbread Hannah had made and whipped cream. 

Good night!

Our 32nd Valentines Day

"Happy Hearts Day" is what my sister-in-law Anita calls Valentines Day. 

Thirty-two years ago I got my first phone call from Jonathan on Valentines Day in Ukraine. It made my heart indescribably happy!

And 32 years later, it warms my heart to see our daughter Rose and Tom and our son Sam and Caitlyn celebrating their second and first Valentines Day as married couples, too!

Our daughter Carrie sent a photo of the Valentines Day flowers display where she works. She is manager of the display.

 This year we co-hosted Valentines Day couple's dinner in our basement with Joe and Chelsea Moore.  The Moores have a vision for this type of fellowship during the week for church people for connection and enrichment. 

It was an excuse to wash the basement windows. 

Does anyone else find that it takes washing them three times inside and out before they even start to look nice? And this is what I get when I ask Hannah to take a picture of me!!!

This one was a little better!!

Crystal did most of the decorating and the last mopping. (We also had to mop three times after cleaning up for the umpteenth time after Danny has been doing more finishing in the basement and Hannah was painting.) We raided every rose or heart decoration throughout nearly all our house, leaving my bedroom and livingroom looking empty and sad so we could have a really pretty basement meal. It was fun, and afterward we put everything back. 

Several couples from three churches in Mission and White River came. We had fun activities, poems, admonition about marriage's purpose to exemplify Christ and the church, prayer, and wonderful food! Chelsea's family had made the most delicious lasagnas!

This amaryllis bloomed just in time for the weekend event! I meant to take it to church this morning but I had so many other things to remember between meal items and Sunday School things for children that it stayed home on the window sill. We had to take most of the food for however many people who might show up because this morning only three other people brought food, and two of them were desserts!

 It was a delight to have a grandma come with children two Sundays in a row. We had been challenged recently to pray about what God would have us do as a church to reach out more, and God laid this lady on my heart. I knew where she lived, and Jonathan or another family member and I have gone to visit and invite her to church two Saturdays in a row. Come to find out, she'd been in the hospital for weeks. The timing was perfect. She came, bringing four children the first Sunday she came, and came again today with two. 

It was worth making the stop, getting past umpteen dogs, to remind them about church. I had dressed up in tall boots and leggings under a thick skirt in case the one nasty dog bit me. Thank God, someone was outdoors when we arrived and chased the dog away.  

Today's lesson was about how God took care of Ruth who had chosen to love and serve Him with her mother-in-law, and the children listened eagerly, especially when I let them help put figures and plants on the flannelgraph board. How they did love that! It was a delight to be using Betty Lukens flannelgraph again just as I did in Ukraine and in Colorado. 

The little boy also loved getting to pour some grain from a jar into the Whispermill wheat grinder I'd brought so that they could see what it is like to turn grain into flour, a little differently than Ruth did, I should say, but the idea was there. They got to see how flour is made!

"I love coming to church!" Danny overheard the little boy say later this morning. And it did my heart good. Hannah came to Sunday School with me to watch and help. I pray she will catch the vision of the joy of teaching children.

Teaching other ladies tips about cooking happens, too. One Lakota lady said she had lots of cans of salmon but doesn't like or use them. I told her how I mash the whole can of salmon, sauce, bones and all, with a fork and add an egg and cracker crumbs and fry patties of it and serve with ketchup. I suggested she bring some sometime, and I would make patties some Sunday. I hope she will. 

When we came home today, I was very exhausted. 

Because of chemo, I haven't felt up to going to the care center until this Thursday, but it was really on my heart to at least run in for a few minutes. Little did I know how God was ordering my steps. First I ran into the store and found, of all things, some Scripture chocolate Valentine candy to share with whoever I visited. The lady I've recently befriended wasn't in sight, but her frail roommate was. She had been to the doctor that morning, and she had been told that not only did she need heart surgery but also that she has cancer! How overwhelming for a little elderly lady all by herself in a nursing home! She seemed the most open to prayer of any time I've been there. I put my arm around her and brought her to Jesus and shared the gospel of believing in Him in my prayer.  I told her I found out 3 1/2 years ago that I had cancer, and I'm still alive. She pointed at the stuffed animals she had chosen from my table a few weeks ago, (photo above) and talked about them. Those stuffed animals were a real hit there. I was amazed at how the Lord led my quick run into this care center to be just what this precious lady needed yesterday. Surely the Lord was caring for her, and I told her so. I pray she truly and really felt His care. 

Manna, Milk Powder, and Mark Zuckerburg

If the title of random words (with the only relation between them being that they begin with the letter "M") sounds random, it is--but hang on for the ride. I wasn't experiencing great inspirations this week, and neither did I have great things to divulge or blog about. It seems to me that if I do not have anything worth saying, it is better to not say anything at all.  

 

Yet at the same time, I wanted to say a little bit of something about a few little things--hence, the random title and the random post. 

Last week while I taught Sunday School to new children who came, Jonathan had his turn giving the Sunday message upstairs in the sunny chapel. It was based on a devotional, "The Battle to Remind," that he'd been inspired by from https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-battle-to-remind. He had an object lesson of how God wanted the children of Israel to keep manna in a jar to remind them of His provision throughout 40 years of wilderness wandering.

And other object lesson (based on Peter's instructions to "stir up your pure minds" to remember) using milk powder, or oatmeal.

 (The first service in Mission where he spoke, we took milk powder, but it sat on top of the water. The oats he took Sunday sank and he stirred them up.)

Danny had the five minute "word of wisdom" Sunday a week ago.

Hannah shared a special. 

So there, I have told you about manna and milk powder. Now where in the world does Mark Zuckerburg come in? Well, at church Sunday morning, a rancher's wife I'm becoming acquainted with told about how her father, when he was drafted during World War II, didn't make it through testing because he was color blind. She is color blind, too, she said, seeing only hues of green and blue. She cannot tell reds and yellows. 

To my surprise, our pastor's wife added that our pastor's father was also color blind! There we sat at the table with one relation after another having this condition. I had never knowingly met a color blind person before meeting one related to us who can only see hues of blue, and therefore likes blue shirts as his favorite. (He would like the blue blouse my sister Dorcas is wearing in the photo below where she is welcoming a new granddaughter.)

I was so intrigued with finding out some of these things, that at home I looked up what percentage of the population is color blind. To my shock, I discovered that approximately one in two hundred women but one in twelve men is color blind!  Interestingly, those who are color blind see more textures and patterns, making it easier for a colorblind hunter, for example, to pick out animals that might be more camouflaged for those who see all the colors.

How in the world this has to do with Mark Zuckerburg? 

Mark Zuckerburg is color blind!

This is why computer screens are blue. Blue is the richest color for him. And that is why we all see blue on our screens.

So now you know.

At least, if what I read online is accurate, and that is often debatable.

But you can check it out for yourself.

Until then, enjoy your blue screen--and the blue sky.

And stay tuned for what in the world that picture is about. 

Not an Intellectual--Just a Mom Who Bakes Bread

Day before yesterday was my day to bake bread. Seven days post chemo, I wasn't up to much, but I managed to do that main task of the day, and I was grateful the bread actually turned out nicely. (Sometimes it doesn't!)

Today, nine days post chemo, after sending my boy off to Martin with a hefty lunch, I sat down later to read the updated obituary of a former coworker in Ukraine--Stephen Gibson. He was four years younger than I and has already finished his course. He had actually finished myriads of courses, to be exact. He had graduated high school at age 14, graduated college at Union Bible College at age 18, earned various masters and doctorate degrees, and was currently pursuing a Ph. D. To say nothing of all the schools, colleges, boards, missions, and other entities he had served throughout his life, and all the countries he had visited personally.

At least thirty.

Oh, and did I mention the curriculum he has written, the languages he has studied, and the number of books he has authored? 

I know you are not supposed to compare, but just reading all that completely blew me away. I mean, this guy was such an intellectual! And yet my sister Kezia says her children loved him when he would speak wherever they were, and she said he was down to earth.

He had served well, that's for sure. He had served Christ and missions well. 

When the obituary tornado dropped me back to earth again, still spiraling, I went to the office where my husband was spending a day at home doing drawings for Building Hope Enterprise, researching for HVAC needs of the mission, and myriad other things. I said some things out loud, just to debrief and process my feelings which I was finding hard to describe. 

I didn't have any fancy stories today or even any fancy photos to blog with except for ones I'd taken in the last few days of food I've made, like the chicken paprikash above. Chemo keeps you from trotting around the globe and sets you down where you can hardly even enjoy eating because of acid reflux, nausea, or yucky taste. 

Who wants to hear about a fried egg in a heart shape and sliced avocado--same breakfast nearly every morning except for that morning when I fried the egg instead of scrambling it?

And yet, for some reason, God still has me here while my friend with his amazing and God-blessed intellect, surrendered completely to His Savior, is now gone and his race run. His sun has set, and mine is set to rise tomorrow, Lord willing. Although I have no masters degree, doctorate, or Ph.D., I can send some leftovers home from sharing supper with a neighbor who came to spend the evening Monday night.

She'd been wanting to get together to make cookies, and when I called on the spur of the moment (I do best with spontaneity) to invite her down for supper since we accidentally had extra pork chops and my guys were gone for two days, she was so thrilled. She had been feeling blue and wondered how to deal with her evening.

So even though I'm no intellectual, we shared supper and prayed together (our neighbor just thanking and praising the Lord for caring for her needs that evening and in turn blessing these ladies in this household) and made two kinds of cookies at once. (Which may or may not have been the greatest idea. But that is what non-intellectual moms do--take on a bit much at times.)

I plan to watch the service tomorrow at ten in the morning my time and probably get blown away all over again.

But when the tornado lands me down on my own two feet again in my own house, I plan to make another meal and bake another batch of bread or cookies or cake--

maybe share a dish or two out again if there is a need in the community,

and remember that I don't have to be an intellectual to please the Lord.

I just have to be willing to bake an extra loaf of bread

and share it

in Christ's name.

For in the end, what really matters is sharing what we have in love--whether that be knowledge, language, truth, intellect, or bread.

But for me this week, it was bread.   

Candlelight in Ukraine--and Tucking Prayer in our Pockets

 At the cancer center last week, I picked up a large print edition of Daily Guideposts 2006 that was sitting on a shelf with free books. As I opened the book a few nights ago during a sleepless hour, there was the story of a soldier in the 10th Mountain Division of the US army in April 1945 who survived a perilous assault on Mt. Belvedere in the Italian Alps, thanks to fog which obscured him and other fellow skiing soldiers who were resupplying ammunition. This soldier escaped death, but some of his buddies did not.

At age 84, another fog began to affect this soldier--Alzheimers. As forgetfulness blurred the present, he seemed transported more and more often behind enemy lines. Each time he wept for his lost comrades.

"I used to pray--how does it go?" he would say to his son. "Our Father--" and he would look at his son helplessly. 

"Hallowed be Thy name," the son would coax.

"Our Father, Who art--" and tears would again well up in the old army man's eyes. The son could give the words, but they would be forgotten immediately. What could be done to help?

Then the son grabbed a pen. He printed the words to the Lord's Prayer on an index card. 

"Here!" he said. "Next time you want to pray, hold this card. The prayer is right here."

Gratefully the aging father looked at the card and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Yeah. Okay, I can do that," he said. 

He tucked the prayer in his shirt pocket--and smiled. 

*******

I wondered how many prayers in Ukraine have been tucked inside shirt pockets because the pray-er has no words left. The photo above was sent to me by our pastor friend in Ukraine. His people were meeting for prayer in the basement of his church--lit only by candles because there was no electricity. Russia has damaged or destroyed every energy plant in Ukraine, leaving many Ukrainians freezing in the darkness, distraught most of all with all the uncertainty. A maternity hospital was recently targeted. How heartless and cruel can Putin and his minions be as to attack a hospital for mothers and babies and nurses?

And so another wordless prayer is tucked into pockets--and the church people there choose to worship with instruments that do not require electricity, such as accordion and tamborines in the clip above. All over Ukraine, people are turning to the Lord and choosing to put their trust in Him. One church alone, we read, must have welcomed at least 30 new believers in just the last month alone. They do not allow cold weather, lack of electricity, and Putin's attacks to decide their lives for them. 

Here in South Dakota, after a busy day pouring concrete at a chapel on the reservation, Jonathan and I headed to bed early last night. Our bear and deer lanterns glowed in the hallway behind the wood stove. 

Unable to carry our own burdens plus the heavy loads of our suffering brothers and sisters in Ukraine, China, and many other countries of the world, we slip under the covers of our bed, tuck our prayers into our pockets, and go to sleep--

because God, to Whom we address our wordless prayers--is awake.  

Remembering the Unborn at SD Capitol

Yesterday our three children here participated in the South Dakota Right to Life rally at the state capitol. 

They had hoped to do this last year but were unable. However, they had wisely kept the posters they had made and took those with them for this event.

They were very grateful that the weather was in the 40s rather than near zero as it had been last week-- certainly more comfortable for the Walk for Life from the capitol building a few blocks away to the main highway through town.

Different people admired Hannah's poster which compared the fine of $250,000 for the destruction of one eagle egg to the fact that a human baby can be killed--at tax payers' expense!

Inside the capitol, people began to gather in--Crystal thought two or three hundred people. Two winners of the student essay contest were present, including a 13-year-old girl whose mother had been pressured into an abortion but instead chose to give the baby life. Now the same mother had come to Christ, married a good, godly man, and was expecting her fourth baby!

Our governor announced that he not only already has seven grandchildren but found out at Christmas time that he is expecting three more! It was good to see Governor Larry Rhoden taking a stand for life.

The crowd also listened to SD Attorney General Marty Jackley who is working to try to keep the abortion pill from being sent to South Dakota addresses. He is involved with a court case on February 20th related to that. 

The children learned that about 79% of abortions happen now with the abortion pills, and the fact that there are abortion-reversal pills in the event that the mother regrets her decision soon enough 

is highly suppressed.

Three tables of cookies, coffee, and other edibles served the participants of the rally. 

It was a delight to listen to our children's stories after participating in this event.