Author: Brenda Proulx

Wife, mother and grandmother, educator and someone who thinks about the things I observe. I am the daughter of a writer; my dad's career was in the field of journalism. More significantly, I am God's child, a person believing in Jesus Christ and in His timeless Word. Blogging is new to me but I feel like I've always had a pen in my hand. I jot notes in my planner, mark papers, underline verses, write many letters, and occasionally draft articles for work or church. When I am not holding a pen, I am probably cuddling a mug of coffee.

Look Up

October was a stellar month for local sky watchers. There was a rare display of the Northern Lights this far south, a comet streaked across the sky, and October’s Hunter’s moon was a super moon! A super moon is when the moon orbits closer to the earth making it look bigger and brighter. The super moon’s proximity also affects ocean tides. The celestial shows delighted amateur astronomers and the general public alike, lighting up our screens with news clips and photos. Sky scenes look spectacular over ocean vistas!

The firmament draws us upward. It lifts us from the confines of earthly perspectives. The skies give evidence of God’s creation, power, and beauty. Its vastness and hint of infinity may be one of the closest approximations of God’s greatness and is unique in its access to mankind. Not every human will lay eyes on the ocean or the mountains, a desert or endless plain, but the glories of the sky are visible to the seeing from every vantage point on earth. Day and night, the heavens speak of the Divine, drawing our minds and hearts to God the Creator.

Here is the October super moon, as photographed by my friend Mark Gottlieb. While not an ocean view, this beautiful shot of our Nation’s Capital  seemed perfect for today.

It is not surprising that Scripture contains many references to celestial objects and skyscapes. God promised Abraham that his descendants would outnumber the stars he could see, and there must have been thousands in Abraham’s ancient, unpolluted night vista. David, a shepherd who spent countless days and nights in open fields, wrote inspired praises in response to heavenly sights.
LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens. When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? Psalm 8 v 1, 3 and 4 (NIV)

Again, in the couplet style of Hebrew poetry, God gave David these lines:

The heavens proclaim the glory of God.
The skies display his craftsmanship.
Day after day they continue to speak;
night after night they make him known.
They speak without a sound or word;
their voice is never heard.
Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,
and their words to all the world. Psalm 19 v 1-4 (NLT)

So, look up. Let the endless blue, the puffiest gray, or the deepest twinkling black, fill your heart and mind with God Himself. Jesus challenged his followers with these words, “When these things … come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.” Luke 21 v 28 (KJV)  That’s Jesus’expansive, saving love ready for us.

If you subscribe to my blog via email, thank you. My posts are best viewed directly at “A Writer’s Daughter”  .
*The abbreviations following Scripture quotes indicate the Bible translation used: New International Version, New Living Translation, King James Version.

A Happy Hamlet

The local bagel shop was uber (excuse my German) cheerful that morning!  Patrons and clients alike exuded a happy mood.  A school aged girl sharing a bagel with her mom noticed a wad of bills on the floor.  She picked it up and handed it to the manager.  The manager quickly realized which customer had dropped it.   A teen was happy to get his spending money back.  Later the manager rewarded the honest girl with a free cookie.

I guess every Eastern seaboard town has its English twin. This is the tea from ours.

As our breakfast continued, I observed another guy checking out with his order.  The cashier took his cash payment and reached out with the guy’s change, which was more than just a few ones.  The customer waved it off, giving it back to the worker as a generous tip.  “Thanks, man,” the cashier answered in surprise!

Not too few customers later, another man drifted by our table on his way out.  He cheerily offered that he was on his way to sell nuts and bolts and added that it was a job he loved!  He was especially happy that day to be headed to the Marine base in Jacksonville, NC.  He appreciated being able to do business with the military, he said.

We left the bagel shop behind a family of three.   The manager teasingly hollered to them, “Have a good drive back to Hawaii!”  All three of them were wearing t-shirts from Hawaii … but you can’t get there by car.  Hopefully, they smiled at the quip.

So, are things always this happy where I live?  Of course not.  Like any town in America or any place in the world there are difficulties and tragedies.  This summer our town experienced a family murder.  It shocks a community to witness that kind of tragedy: a young woman’s life gone; the rest of the family torn apart.  Every place eventually experiences the same.

The towns that I am currently thinking so much about are the hamlets and the hollows of western North Carolina.  Beautiful, rural mountain communities were ripped apart by rare flooding due to Hurricane Helene.  The loss of life is still being counted, property devastation is widespread, and the infrastructures of water, electricity, roads, and internet are still heavily damaged.  The ‘happy’ part of this, and I don’t joke or take lightly the deep loss and pain, is the way folks are coming together to help.  Big organizations and small are sending supplies and showing up to be involved.  Local ministries, churches, and schools and colleges in the mountains are also answering the call to reach out to their own, like Queen Esther, unexpectedly called “for such a time as this” (Esther 4 v 14).   Among them are Samaritan’s Purse, headquartered in Boone, NC, literally on the ground immediately; sister ministry, Billy Graham retreat center, The Cove, now housing volunteers and law enforcement personnel; and Excel College in Black Mountain, who have agreed to host Adventures in Missions Disaster Relief.  Our friends the Horvaths head up Adventures Relief and have committed to two years of disaster recovery in the Swannanoa Valley area.  They will soon move their family of six, in their home on wheels, to Black Mountain, NC.  You can follow their mission at Adventures.org/relief.

God promises to make “beauty from ashes”  (Isaiah 61 v 3).   We are witnessing goodness out of calamity.  And I love that this good movement is receiving positive publicity for many to see!  Jesus encouraged action of His followers, saying, “so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5 v 16)  AMEN

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Tetelestai

Blurry, gothic lettering on a dark t-shirt in front of me stole my attention.  I couldn’t avoid the sight as the young man wearing it sat in the church row directly ahead of me.  Eventually, I deciphered “Suicide Boys” and beneath that, “Your soul is about to be rec …” on his back. The rest faded too dark to read.  Not such a great prelude to worship!  Ironically, the congregation sang, “Death was once my great opponent, fear once had a hold on me,” as the service progressed.

Suicide is a grim reality in our fallen world. I question that musicians take such a name, possibly promoting that which is sick and sinful.  God alone commands life … and death.  The upside of the young man in the swag shirt is that he was in church!  Suicide Boys may falsely depict life and death issues, but good Bible teaching rightly informs.  And he sat with a wonderful family who will disciple him well.

After the service, I searched online for the t-shirt’s missing word.  The full word is ‘recycled’:  “ Your soul is about to be recycled.”  How odd that Suicide Boys misses the mark again.  Not only is suicide not God’s plan, but there is no recycling of the soul, no reincarnation.

Reincarnation is still a belief of some.  On a recent trip through central Ontario, I noticed many miles (they’d say kilometers) of new fencing.  I asked our host about it and the purpose is to keep the deer and moose off the highway.  But the local resident added that the bottom portion of the fence is a different material and gauge.  A smaller screening is used to keep turtles and snakes off the road.  The Indigenous peoples of the area hold to a belief in reincarnation; this reptile protection honors their ancestors or descendants.  Reincarnation cost the Ontario highway department a lot!

The beautiful Muskoka lake region makes a great vacation spot and is home to deer, moose, turtles and snakes.

As I mentioned, one of the songs in our worship service addressed death.  A lilting tune carries a story of transformation from fear of finality to victory and joyful confidence in the end.  Why?  The lyrics continue:

“Death was once my great opponent

Fear once had a hold on me

But the Son who died to save us

Rose that we would be free indeed.” *

Our freedom flows from the work on the cross.  Jesus finally and forever finished that work of salvation for us!  “Tetelestai – It is finished,” Jesus declared with his last breath (John 19 v 30).

*“It Is Finished Upon That Cross”  Words and Music by Jonny Robinson, Rich Thompson, and Nigel Hendroff.  2021  CityAlight Music

It Was Finished Upon That Cross

On Travel Part 3

The idea for Part 3 of  “On Travel” came from a news item I saw earlier this summer.  July 4 marked the 250th anniversary of Thomas Jefferson’s purchase of a place known as Natural Bridge in southwestern Virginia.  It is a rock formation featuring a giant hole or tunnel.  Virginia’s Route 11 runs over the rock ‘bridge’ and a park and trails have been developed around the site. Years ago, our family visited the Natural Bridge park.

Native Americans prized the phenomenal site, but after Jefferson’s purchase of it from King George, the property continued in private ownership and became a tourist attraction early in the twentieth century. In 2016, Natural Bridge became a Virginia state park.

At the time our family went there, the park was still privately owned.  After a long, steep stairway descent, paths take you along a creek and under the bridge.  There are caves too, which may have been how the tunnel formed.  I recall how as we walked the creekside trail, our school-aged son with typical boyhood energy, scrambled along the rocky ledge of the path.  Suddenly, he fell off the path and for a  millisecond, I wondered how far down he had fallen.  It turned out that we were not far above the creek bed but the rock gashed his leg:  it was one of those gasp parent moments!

The other fun aspect of visiting Natural Bridge at that time was an evening light show.  In 1927, Westinghouse helped create a light show spotlighting the rock formation with moving beams and colored lighting.  As the lights flashed, the creation account from Genesis was broadcast to the audience.  It was meaningful to experience a wonder of nature, technology, and creativity with credit given to God.

This past week, my Bible readings included Psalm 36 which says,

5Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
6 Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
your justice like the great deep.

The heights and skies of the mountainous area, as well as a flowing stream with just a little depth, are on awesome display in wonders like Virginia’s Natural Bridge.  It is also comical to me that verse six ends with

“You, Lord, preserve both man and beast.”  Our son came through his fall with only a scrape!

A late summer road trip approaches for us.  We will look for God’s wonders and trust Him to preserve our travel.

The Natural Bridge, Virginia, 1852, by Frederic Edwin Church, on display at Bayly Art Museum. Charlottesville, VA

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On Travel Part Two

Not all rest stops are as intriguing as the artful, waterside, and panoramic ones I described in  On Travel Part One.   Sometimes the road weary must take what is available when a break is needed.  Such was the case when my husband and I ended up in a small, dingy fast-food restaurant in a town that also seemed small and dingy.

This poster hung in the dining area. Sorry, Kentucky but honestly Virginia bears a very similar shape!

I don’t recall if it was fuel or food that demanded our stop, but we found few options as we drove through a depressed main street area. The town lacked charm and energy, but a reputation proceeded it in our minds.  Hopewell, Virginia was where Rev. Tim Keller first pastored a church.  Keller eventually became the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church of New York City, a renowned preacher, and a prolific author.   I dedicated a  blog post to his legacy last summer after he died of cancer at age 72.  Since then, a new family member carries his name.

Hopewell was an odd placement for a man like Timothy Keller.  He was a well-educated intellectual, a voracious reader, and able to comprehend, reason, and expound at very deep levels.  He loved academic settings. Hopewell was a blue-collar town. As a young pastor there, Keller had to balance his brilliance in Bible teaching with pastoral care and connecting in community.  The Hopewell congregation also “forced Keller to develop his skill for distilling difficult and complicated concepts in ways that Christians and non-Christians alike can understand.”  (Hansen, Collin.  Timothy Keller His Spiritual and Intellectual Formation, 2023).  The Kellers lived and ministered in Hopewell, Virginia for nine years; their three sons were born in Hopewell.  One of Hopewell’s congregants gave the eulogy at Keller’s memorial service .

You might wonder why my blog about travel took a detour to a small town, and a pastor’s first start.   For me, the Keller years in Hopewell signify how God calls us to be faithful and obedient whatever the task, wherever the task.  Sometimes, maybe often, our placements feel like a misfit.  I would not extrapolate this to mean, start small so that God will do something big later.  I don’t think ministry is ever about size.  It’s about faithfulness in the moment.

Personally, I have been thinking about another small start.  At my fortieth high school reunion, I reconnected with a classmate.  We had not been in touch since the summer after our freshman year in college because my family moved away.  Through tears my old friend recounted her memory of “that little church.”  During our junior high years, she attended Wednesday night youth group with me.  The youth program wasn’t flashy, but there she heard the Gospel, resulting in a lifetime of faith in Jesus for her. Wherever spectacular travels might take you this summer or especially if you remain in your routine place, abound in faithful living.  “Therefore … be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15 v 58

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Someone enjoys a summer day in the neighborhood.

On Travel: Rest Stops

My husband and I travel the road a lot.  Living on the east coast, we traverse north and south on I- 95, and sometimes further west on I-81, also a north-south highway.  We enjoy diversions too on less-traveled routes, but we’ve become very familiar with the cities, townships and sights we pass on our repeated journeys.

As empty nesters, we plan our pace loosely.  I can’t say that we always stop to smell the roses; there are people and places along the way yet to see.  We do, however, often travel with a freer itinerary and that includes frequent stops:  mental and physical breaks that are wise for our age, wise for all long-distance travelers.

Welcome to New York state, via I-81 north.

Along our familiar routes, I have my favorite rest stops.  When we head home southbound on 95, the first NC rest stop features giant whirl-i-gigs.  A North Carolinian grew fond of building these large wind structures and they now adorn various spots in the state.  This whimsical rest stop means the journey is almost over for us.  For many years, we drove to Westchester, NY for Thanksgiving.   The crisp air and city vibe as we pulled into a Jersey travel center meant the holiday had begun for me!   Even the coffee seemed festive!  A New York Welcome Center on northbound 81 overlooks a gorgeous mountain vista and inside a market offers nice products from around the state.

Recently, we discovered a unique rest area.   It is, of course, accessible from the highway for those traveling by car as we do, but behind it is the Dismal Swamp Canal, so this rest area has a dock and boat slips for those traveling the canal!  They too need rest areas, and this one offers special facilities for boaters.

 

 

 

 

 

Our road stops include quick bathroom breaks, stretches, tidying the car and maybe some caffeine, but I’ve noticed the travelers who are more leisurely about their stops. They rest at picnic tables in shady areas savoring plentiful picnics.  Playful dogs get needed exercise in the open grassy spaces.  Once I saw a young family cooking their meal on a rest area grill – now that’s planning ahead and making a memory!

Is rest Biblical?  Yes, planned rest began in the account of creation.  God worked for six days to bring the universe into existence.  Scripture tells us that God “rested on the seventh day from all His work He had done” (Genesis 2 v 2).  With His infinite power, I don’t think God was tired on the seventh day.  Instead, He was modeling for us the goodness of rest; physical, mental, and spiritual rest.  Sabbath rest is a deep topic that I won’t pursue in this post, but I encourage you to rest regularly.  Psalm 46 v 10 calls us to “Be still and know that I am God.”  And on this Saturday evening, I pray that you include “enter[ing] the sanctuary of God” (Psalm 73 v 17) in your day of rest tomorrow.

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Refreshment in July: Thankful for Waiting Rooms

It’s an odd thing to be grateful for, waiting rooms.  Specifically, waiting rooms in a doctor’s office or clinic.  Though some doctors offer plush lobbies with a stack of great magazines, that’s not the ones I have in mind.  I am referring to ones with sterile styling and plasticized upholstered chairs.  Though there may be light chatter, more often there is a serious quietude.  In these anterooms, one observes unfiltered humanity.  It’s like people watching at an airport but with far more pathos.  So why would I be grateful for waiting rooms?  It’s not the patience factor.

I featured this waiting area photo in a previous blog Hindsight Is 20/20 Pt 2

Experiencing waiting rooms evokes gratitude in me first because I usually see folks who are going through so much more than me.  Whatever I may be dealing with that brought me to this place, it is clear that others are suffering and facing more serious, even life-threatening illnesses.  It is hard and humbling to see sick people or those going through extreme treatment.

During one wait, my husband noticed a frail, elderly woman come in alone.  She checked in and was handed a clipboard of forms that appeared to overwhelm and confuse her.  He asked if she wanted help, and he was able to read and write for her until she was called back for her appointment.  Another time we ran into a friend of mine and her husband.  We greeted each other but didn’t ask any questions; later I found out her husband had advanced cancer.  I thank God for the reminder, the wakeup call, about my many blessings, including my health.

I also welcome the opportunity to witness the goodness of mankind in medical lobbies.  In the waiting and watching I observe care and concern between families, between friends.  I have noticed elderly sisters; husbands and wives, young and old; adult children with a parent; paid caregivers; and other companions accompanying patients.  There’s so much to admire and appreciate in the compassion and sacrifice of one to another.  One young woman, clearly experiencing difficult illness and treatment, came in with her uncle who lived several states away because her husband had to be out of town on business – heartwarming and heart wrenching all at once.  But it is good to see goodness.

Theologians call this goodness “common grace.”   It’s the capacity God gives His human creation to do good, as He Himself is good.  Doing good is not to be equated with salvation however:  salvation comes through faith in Jesus, God’s grace-filled gift to us.  The Scriptures say, “ … He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy …”  Titus 3 v 5   But our disposition for goodness, despite our sinful selves, uplifts us and ultimately lifts us to acknowledge God, the provider of goodness, compassion, and salvation.

We are grateful for God’s encouraging presence during a recent medical journey.

References on gratitude:  Psalm 136, 1 Thessalonians 5 v15 & v18.                        If you receive my blog via email, thank you.  The posts are best viewed at    “A Writer’s Daughter”

 

 

 

 

 

Remembering Beyond D Day

We recently commemorated the 80th anniversary of D Day, the Allied Forces’ rescue of France and other European countries invaded by Germany.  As that heroic event was being remembered, I was reading the autobiography of a young Jewish man who lived through the Nazi occupation of Holland.  His first-hand account of the persecution and eradication of Jews astounds me once again.  It is a clarion wake-up call for today.  As with other World War 2 fiction and nonfiction books I’ve read recently, the realities are unfathomable.

Ernest Cassutto was a Dutch university student at the time of the Nazi invasion of Holland.  As the round-up of Jews in Holland intensified, Cassutto and his family went into hiding, as did his fianceé and her family.  Gestapo raids kept them on the move and in constant fear.  Ernest and his fiancee were eventually caught, and she was killed in a concentration camp.  The Germans never deported Ernest but sent him to forced labor farms in Holland.  Though the liberation of Europe began on D Day in June of 1944, the Netherlands was not freed until nearly a year later in May of 1945.  Ernest and his family survived the Holocaust.  The Jewish young girl he later married also survived the Holocaust.  A Christian teacher in rural Holland took her in, but her parents were captured and died at the hands of Nazis.

Ernest Cassutto’s fiancee, as shown in his autobiography, was killed in Auschwitz.

What is stunning about the experiences of the Jews like Ernest Cassutto was the explicit race profiling.  The Cassutto family did not practice their Judaism.  In fact, due to being born overseas, Ernest was not circumcised, a fact known to his German captors.  The slaughter of approximately six million people was based entirely on their identity as Jews!  How terrifying to realize that this genocide happened in modern times, in ‘civilized’ culture.

At this point you’ll wonder why “A Writer’s Daughter” is addressing history!?  Cassutto’s life story took an early twist.  Just prior to the war, Ernest examined the Christian faith.  A pastor directed him to Isaiah 53, where he and his fiancé came to believe in Jesus as the Messiah and their personal Savior.  It was the Christian community who put themselves in great danger to hide and protect Jewish friends and neighbors from the Nazis. Several of Ernest’s family members and his future wife also received the Gospel as a result of the perilous resistance work by Christians for the sake of their Jewish brothers and sisters.

Ernest Cassutto recognized the clear description of a Savior suffering for the salvation of sinners in Isaiah 53.   John 13 v 35 clearly conveys a deep responsibility to the saved:  “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  Many loved courageously during Hitler’s evil regime.  Some lost their lives doing so.

References:

The Last Jew of Rotterdam by Ernest Cassutto.  I also recommend Letter to the American Church by Eric Metaxas.

Note:  my blog posts are best viewed at A Writer’s Daughter

 

Music to my Ears

The familiar idiom ‘music to my ears’ suggests welcome news, something one is glad to hear, but in my case a theme played on repeat in my head.  For the last few weeks, the topic of music circulated around me.  First my mind recalled in-home concerts I experienced. Then I read about the benefits of singing in sync with others (Pink, Daniel.  When.  2018).  More music related hints came from a recent sermon text on singing (Ephesians 5 v 19), a link to register for the “Sing” conference, and a daily verse describing God singing over us.  Finally, last week, CeCe Winan’s “(I will sing of) The Goodness of God” music video hit one of my text threads followed by it being one of the worship songs in Sunday’s service.   So, on music at home and singing I will write!  This composition will not win a Pulitzer, but it will stop the ringing in my ears.

Have you attended a concert in a home?  Though rare these days, music in the home was common before TV, radios, stereos, and phonographs.  Entertainment was homemade:  music and games in the parlor.  Whoever could play or sing, did so with family and for guests.  There were mansion ballroom dances accompanied by chamber groups and barn dances with fiddles.  Simpler days spawned simpler ways.


I experienced an extraordinary concert at my sister’s home. She, an accomplished pianist, and a musician friend on the vibraphone, gave a concert at a graduation party. They far surpassed the level of skill for most in-home recitals, but it retained the warmth of a home setting with an intimate audience. Pictured is her keyboard with music for the opening number.

Today music is piped in and turned on everywhere, like the surprisingly loud easy rock playing in pre-op before my last colonoscopy.  We access any artist, any song with a flick on our phone.  Our access to music is quite amazing, yet live music, even if amateur, feeds us in a different and unique way.  Many years back, I recall a friend’s child played her piano recital piece for our visit.  Another time a neighbor invited several of us to her home so she could play a dress rehearsal for an upcoming musical she was accompanying.  On a New Year’s Day, a group of us sang “Auld Lang Syne” together as the host strummed it on his guitar.  Maybe you recall a hearthside serenade, a parlor performance, or an impromptu campfire concert or sing-along  –  I hope so!  We could all try singing a hymn at mealtime or hum the children a bedtime lullaby.  I don’t discount streaming playlists at home which adds cheer or comfort too, especially when our voice joins the chorus.

Music is a gift from our Creator.  We get joy from making music, music can praise Him, and God sings over us.  Zephaniah 3 v 17 expresses, “The LORD thy God … will joy over thee with singing” (shared in the King James Version as it was shared with me.)

My posts are best viewed directly from the website “A Writer’s Daughter”