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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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.
One of my manger scenes, a mix of nativity sets. Spanish moss serves as straw. Some time I will tell you about the creche I saw in Europe.
I had ideas for a December 2023 Christmas blog, but I couldn’t carve out the time for writing that post last month. Today, Epiphany, also called Three Kings’ Day and Little Christmas, as the church calendar commemorates the Magi’s visit to Jesus, presenting their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Him, I present two Jesus stories. The first is one I wrote last year, when my blog was down due to a major hacking. I added secondly, another Jesus story I posted in December 2021. May you enjoy these gifts from me, that I hope remind you of the great story of Jesus our Savior.
“Presenting a Baby Jesus” – 2022
He was born a sickly baby. For whatever reason, his parents left him in the care of hospital social workers; his physical condition would require intense medical treatment for the foreseeable future. Yet he survived infancy and continued in the care of hospital staff. He grew, although he was not nurtured, and therefore did not make the baby milestones of sitting, walking, and talking. Eventually the toddler, still facing serious medical challenges, needed a home and guardians. Social services reached out to a couple who had experience with adoption and fostering, and who also had medical expertise. The couple prayerfully considered the situation: it was not a plan they had in mind, but is it ever? They agreed to become his temporary guardians.
In the following months, the little guy required highly specialized medical intervention. His foster parents procured doctors who could address his complex needs. At one point, it required weeks of living out of state with him for surgery, hospital convalescence and follow-up. His medical outcome was good, and he began to gain childhood developments, even though his long-term prognosis and life-expectancy were uncertain.
Eventually, social services approached the couple about permanent adoption. Again, after prayerful consideration, the couple decided not to adopt the little boy. Their own children were grown, and they felt the child needed a young family. At this point, one of the couple’s grown children, who had been adopted herself, asked to adopt the little boy. She had been around him often as her parents had fostered him and she felt called to be his mother. Miraculously, the social agency processed the bureaucratic red tape successfully, and the young woman became his mother. The child now has a home and he is part of a big family whom he has known since his earliest memory.
Nativity cutout ornaments from a friend; hung on a very bright day!
I got to meet this sweet little guy and his family last Christmas. He is full of love and life. As he and his mother left the gathering, he went around the table one by one, giving each of us a good-bye hug. And what is his name? Jesus. Can you believe he shares the name of our Savior, whose birth we celebrate at Christmas!? It is Christ’s birth, life and resurrection that allows us to be adopted into God’s family, becoming sons and daughters of His promises. I can’t word it any better than Galatians 4 v 4a and 5b: “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son … that we might receive adoption as sons.”
Two beautiful “Jesus” stories. Amen.
“A Real Life Mary and Joseph Story”- 2021
Friends of ours, Darrell and Cindy*, own a rental property. It’s not hobby real estate; the income it generates represents an important component of their finances. Keeping the unit rented with reliable tenants is a priority. During one rental turnover, Darrell and Cindy were interviewing interested renters. There were several good prospects including some newlyweds who were acquaintances of the previous renters.
The young couple toured the unit and liked it but felt it was beyond their budget. They told Darrell and Cindy that they were expecting a baby and wanted to get a place on their own, but their income was limited. They also shared that their baby was diagnosed with a medical condition, likely resulting in additional expenses. Doctors were not optimistic.
Darrell and Cindy looked at other good applicants for the rental, but the growing little family stayed on their minds. They decided to pray about it and consider how a discounted rent would impact their income. Darrell admitted that turning the couple away seemed like telling Mary and Joseph there was no room in the inn! They came back to the couple and asked what rent amount would work for them. An agreement was reached, and they signed a lease. What a sweet miracle for the young couple in an exciting but uncertain time.
Darrell and Cindy prepped the unit and finalized the paperwork. Darrell spoke to the previous renters about returning their deposit. They were a bit surprised to find out about the money, since even as a budget-conscious couple, they had not realized the deposit was still due them. Aware of the situation of the new renters, they told Darrell to keep their security deposit and apply it as the new security deposit! Another unexpected little miracle! The new couple moved in, and their baby boy was born. He is healthy and growing with no immediate health issues, such a great miracle for his young parents.
This nativity is on display at the Museum of the Bible in Washington, DC.
Darrell and Cindy demonstrate how Christ followers live close to truths of the Bible. Being sensitive to known needs around us and meeting them in practical ways within our capacity is what Jesus told us to do (in many passages such as Luke 3:11). And as Darrell and Cindy would tell you, the blessing is all yours.
At Christmastime, we see the stable scene creches and sing of the lowly manger birth. On the night of Jesus’ birth, no rooms were available in Bethlehem, forcing Mary and Joseph to lodge outside. Later in His ministry Jesus charged, “you have no room for my word” (John 8:37). It is worth asking: have you left Jesus out in the cold, or do you make room for Him in your heart and daily life? The best miracle is that He is at the door, knocking and asking to come in (Revelation 3:20).
*names are changed to maintain anonymity
One Christmas, Cindy gave me this book, a found treasure, if you know what I mean. She didn’t know that I had long admired the creche collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Although I visited New York city many times at Christmas, I never made it to the Nativity tree exhibit.
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This past spring, my husband and I celebrated a milestone anniversary with a trip to the Caribbean island of St. Martin. The island is comprised of two countries: the Dutch Sint Maarten and the French Saint-Martin. Of course, the Proulxs chose a resort on the French side!
Besides the picturesque aqua waters of the Caribbean, the French international atmosphere enriched our short stay. French citizens travel to this island, no passport needed; guests from France seemed clearly comfortable in their own country! The local language is French though St. Martin is strongly influenced by Caribbean culture.
During our stay at the resort, I noticed that one of the guest activities was a French class. Being a former language teacher, I thought that sounded fun. I showed up at the poolside activity booth at the scheduled time and asked about the class. The host manning the booth scrambled a bit, but soon a staff member showed up, and brought along another staff member in training. No other guests showed up, so the two guys offered me a table and chair nearby … and I had a private French lesson! It was comical!
Here are the phrases the tutor wrote for my lesson.
The two fellows were young, Black Caribbean natives. Many residents on St. Martin are immigrants from nearby Caribbean islands, as these two may have been (I do not recall). Apparently, job opportunities are more plentiful on St. Martin. My tutors asked me what I wanted to learn. One of them pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write out conversational phrases. They pronounced the phrases, and I repeated them. I enjoyed asking them questions about local education and language. They told me the official language and the language of school is French, but English language instruction begins early in their education. There are locally spoken Creole languages too. After 45 minutes of conversing with the two young men, I thanked them for their time and went on my way. Let’s just say that I will need a few more lessons before I can manage any kind of French interaction, no fault of my sincere tutors!
Where does “A Writer’s Daughter” land this post? One of my favorite themes is work and excellence. My French teachers demonstrated those admirable traits, but I addressed that subject in my recent post “Dressed for Success on the Produce Aisle.” Instead, I lean into the value of every individual, folks like us and folks who are not, like my Island tutors, so different from me. All of us share the imprint of the divine, being created in the image of God (Genesis 1 v 27). We must esteem each other, beyond what we may or may not share in common. God’s creatures, however, are not automatically all His children, as is often misstated. God’s children are those who call Jesus, the sacrificial Son whom God provided for humanity, their one and only hope of redemption and salvation. Romans 10: v 9 – 13 Rendons grâce à Dieu.
This post is better viewed on www.brendaproulx.com where you can also read Part 1 of “Pardon My French” and other previous posts.
Traveling home on the last leg of a recent, long road trip, we stopped to eat at an Arby’s in Ruther Glen, Virginia, off I-95. I placed my meal order with a very upbeat cashier. Repeatedly she interjected “m’ dear,” an endearment quite typical in Southern speech, as she confirmed my selections. The sweet expression felt good as my husband and I were in need of rest and refreshment at this point in our many miled journey. Next to me, a handsome young Black man also placed his order and a few minutes later a woman in a cute yellow dress joined him.
Ruther Glen is big enough to have an Arby’s but too small to be named on the exit sign. Photo by Doug Kerr, from the site Mapcarta.
Our meal came and we sat in a booth, the fast food satisfying our hunger. Being the people watcher that I am, I saw that the African American couple sat in the booth next to us. As they too ate their meal, I overheard playful banter in their conversation that spoke of love and a healthy relationship, nothing course or lewd about it. At some point, her man and mine left our tables and she spoke to me. She commented that she noticed us and thought we showed a mature and seasoned relationship. I told her that indeed we had recently celebrated our fortieth wedding anniversary. She congratulated me with seemingly genuine happiness for us. I asked about their life together and she answered that they were at the twenty-year mark. “Wow,” I responded. “You look too young for that!” Our little chat ended with wishing each other many more years of loving commitment in marriage.
About this time, the cashier from up front began circulating the dining area with a broom. She too engaged in conversation with me. It was almost Mother’s Day weekend and I think that’s where she started. She shared about all the gifts she got for her mother and couldn’t wait to give her on her day off. I think one of the gifts was a plaque or decorative family tree because she began telling me the names of her kids and siblings and step-siblings. It was clear that she adored her mother and planned to generously express her love through gifts.
It struck me that both women initiated conversations with me. Did I look lonely or lost? I doubt that was the reason: the Southern way is just warm, friendly, and casual. The Southern way has also been associated with prejudice, yet both Black women felt comfortable and interested in talking to me, a white stranger passing through town. Life’s commonalities drew us together. I was a wife sharing fast food with my husband, and I was a daughter, possibly also a mother, to the talkative cashier. We found a connection by sharing those life roles. The connection provided a measure of kindness.
God felt the same about connecting with us. He sent His Son Jesus to experience our humanity. Jesus willingly gave up the glories of being God, to share life’s human realities on earth, including the eventual agony of death. At this point, some of you will recognize these as truths from Philippians 2. I was part of a discussion on that passage on Sunday. I love how one person said it: God who is eternal and omnipresent (is everywhere at once) subjected Himself through Jesus His Son to our limitations of time and place.
Three years ago, at this time, our country experienced a terrible fissure. What appeared to be an unnecessarily harsh police arrest incited an uproar of protests. Thousands rioted in city streets to voice their indignation, even as churches and schools were shut down, parks and beaches were closed, and many jobs were suspended. Fear of a virus and social isolation fueled the reaction and rage.
As grievous as the Minneapolis incident was, my encounters at the Ruther Glen Arby’s happen more often. I believe when kindness or empathy occur, it is a small reflection of the great image of God’s kindness, as explained in Philippians 2; how Jesus demonstrated the ultimate emptying of His divine rights and privileges. We can receive His saving grace (which Scripture defines below as bending the knee and verbal consent), and common grace can be imparted to those with whom we walk this earth.
~from Philippians 2 5 In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: 6 Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; 7 rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness. 8 And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
9 Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name, 10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
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After living my entire adult life in the DC area, I knew learning the layout of a new town would be a challenge. From the outset, I prepared myself for needing maps, GPS, and Google to find my way around. I purposed to be patient and willing to stop and restart as I drove to many new destinations. Even now, more than two years in, I often rely on navigation to get where I’m going. God has specifically protected me in a couple of dangerous mistakes, but most of the time I have navigated safe U-turns, arriving at the right place, my car and I intact.
U-turns are actually required driving in North Carolina. The road system blocks certain turns, instead redirecting drivers to designated intersections, widened for official U-turns. Sometimes there’s a stoplight for the U-turn, but sometimes it’s only a yield, which doesn’t seem any safer to me than a yielded left turn. Official or unscheduled, U-turns feature regularly in my driving experience here in North Carolina.
My long-time pastor liked to say, “God allows U-turns.” He was not preaching about driving; he meant choices on the road of life. Sometimes with intention, but often unknowingly, people find themselves going in the wrong direction. One can look up and realize the road ahead leads to a dead-end or to destruction. As long as one lives, no matter where one is or what’s going on, there is the opportunity to choose God and follow His direction. He charts a just-right course for everyone turning to faith in Jesus.
One of the most profound U-turn stories, literally of Biblical proportions, is the life of the apostle Paul. On a road trip to round up followers of Jesus for imprisonment or worse, he was struck by a blinding light and heard the audible voice of Jesus. That call redirected Paul’s future. For the rest of his life, Paul traveled the known world, missionary-style, preaching the gospel and writing much of the New Testament as prompted by the Spirit. The account of Paul’s U-turn is found in Acts 9 v 1-19 and is repeated in Acts 22 and Acts 26. And how did Paul summarize his conversion? “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” (Philippians 3 v 8) A priceless route correction!
This is Topsail Island, NC. The photo is from the America’s Transportation Awards website. The bridge project was commended for Operations Excellence.
When I posted my last blog entry entitled “Man and Machine” (July 16, 2022) on Facebook, I quipped that the post might keep one from “blowing it.” The pun suggested that readers might avoid life breakdowns by following the Owner’s Manual. The blog anecdote retold the experience of a salesclerk improperly operating a machine for blowing insulation, that my husband was preparing to rent. The machine shorted out and they wouldn’t rent the compromised equipment to him.
The ’34 Ford had flipped doors, compared to the way today’s car doors open.
As I have continued to mull over the idea of following recommended guidelines for peak performance, in this case God’s life directives to us in Scripture, I realized there is a flip side. The flip side is that one can overemphasize rule following. It’s not that there’s too much obeying, it’s about misunderstood outcomes. The intended result is out of alignment.
I have seen this in the workplace. I have seen colleagues overperforming, creating needless projects (extra work for themselves and others), spending all their waking hours immersed in their completion. Since work was good and important, completing more of it somehow made you a better person, they rationalized.
Or in personal dynamics, extra ‘doing’ can be compensation for past relational failures. Being super sweet now or extraordinarily helpful makes up for a bad or foolish action of the past, one hopes.
Even in Christian living you’ll see someone volunteering to do every ministry or attend every church event, sometimes to the neglect of other responsibilities. The heart may have good motives, but the head may not understand God’s purpose for ministry activity.
Having a strong work ethic, trying to restore a relationship, and doing ministry are all upright and important pursuits, but rule following for the sake of rule following leads nowhere. Just heeding the Manufacturer’s Instructions does not put your relationship with God into gear. Only faith in Jesus’ work on the cross for us, ignites the engine for a full life in Him. And once your life is energized through His mercy and grace for you, it will be a delight to adhere to the Owner’s Manual. “But because of God’s great love for us, God who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions – it is by grace you have been saved,” Ephesians 2:5. “We know that we have come to know Him if we keep His commands,” 1 John 3:3.
This is my husband’s hobby project, when he’s not blowing insulation or doing some other handyman job for us. I’ve always noticed the heart in the front grill.
On occasion I pen some poetry. I wrote a ditty for the kids at Halloween. It has a limerick-like cadence and rhyme pattern to it. I pass out my poem and candy to Trick or Treaters. Doesn’t Scripture challenge us to “make the most of every opportunity” and “be prepared in season?” (Ephesians 5:16, 2 Timothy 4:2)
The Good News comes with good treats.
If you would like to use my poem, please feel free. I added some additional information on the back of the poem: names of good local churches, and websites and apps for an explanation of the Gospel. Depending on how you view my blog (via website, email or Facebook), you may not see the full text of the poem, so here it is:
Prayer on Halloween
Praying for you On this Halloween night That Jesus is with you And shows you His light, That God’s ways are your ways, That His praise fills your days, That safe fun for you stays, This Halloween night. By Brenda Proulx
I would love to hear how you spread the Gospel in your unique situations.
I participated in a neighborhood Trunk or Treat. I staged a fall barn scene in my “trunk.”
