Do you remember doing book reports in elementary school? Teachers cleverly devised multiple project ideas to ensure that students were regularly reading books. Assignments included paragraph summaries on 3 X 5 cards, dioramas, posters, book jackets, and others you may recall. Book reading for the young student continues to be a high priority at the elementary level, but approaches have changed, which I will not get into here. Instead, I will report on two, make that three, books I read in 2023. They stand out for me in ways I’d like to share. I hope my synopses earn passing marks from you!
“Live Not By Lies” was the famed dissenter Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s clarion call to resist Soviet repression, especially of religion. Writer Rod Dreher borrowed Solzhenitsyn’s phrase to entitle a book he never intended to write. Live Not By Lies lays out a “soft totalitarianism” that is creeping, maybe steamrolling, into American culture. Dreher came to author the book when immigrants from communist countries approached him about the glaring similarities of events and policies in Western democracies to the oppression in communist countries that they had personally experienced.
The book uncovers the many ways that a liberal ‘creed’ is being forced onto American society. Warning that it could happen again, Dreher recounts dreadful stories of massive religious persecution in Soviet block nations. It is a sobering and very unsettling book to read, but the story is not limited to America’s current dangerous reality and the evil history of the recent past. Dreher shares the steadfastness of individuals, families and congregations who resisted communist aggression against their faith, and he explains how their means of resistance were effective. He suggests these are ways that would be successful again.
My other book report features the book The Thrill of Orthodoxy by Trevin Wax. I saw the book on a recommended list in 2022 and was captured by its title – a bit of an oxymoron? The author was a new name to me, but I liked his bio. ‘Orthodoxy’ sounded daunting, nonetheless I bought the book and determined to read it. I was pleasantly surprised: the book was quite readable and compelling! Wax’s thesis is that orthodoxy, the timeless doctrines of the Christian faith, is adventurous and exciting. Rather than being dull or static, the Christian faith has been and always will be solid, stable, exuberant, invigorating … and in other words, thrilling! Joy and energy permeated the explanations and examples of historic Christian orthodoxy.
For extra credit, let me tell you how the two books are complementary. The onslaught of a new totalitarianism determined to wipe out Judeo Christian beliefs is chilling, but the orthodox truths of God are firm and life-giving. Scripture is “for such a time as this,” not unlike the Jewess, Queen Esther’s, vital calling during an impending genocide (Esther 4 v 14). With confidence and fortitude, we hold on to our foundational beliefs knowing they, by the power of God and His Son Jesus, will withstand the confrontations that may lie ahead.
Indeed, the Bible is the third in my book review of 2023. Now my assignment is complete and posted by the January 31 due date! As this first month of 2024 draws to a close, evaluate the quality and quantity of your Bible reading: set some goals or make a plan for the year ahead, inasmuch as “Every word of God proves true” (Proverbs 30 v 5) and “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4 v 4).
The topmost book on the pile is a journal I keep of books I read. I record the title, author and a brief summary and critique.
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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.
This month many folks must endure workplace propaganda that contradicts their personal beliefs. Friends have told me how tiring and oppressive the continuous onslaught can be. I am no longer employed but similar promotions appear in businesses and media I come across. ‘Pride’ ideology is massively divisive. For this reason, my post features words directly from the Author of Life, letting Scripture speak for itself to the issues at hand. My compilation spans the Old and New Testaments and various Biblical genres of history, poetry, the Gospels (of Jesus) and the Epistles (letters). The prudent practice of comparing multiple passages is referred to as “the whole counsel of Scripture.”
Genesis 1 v 26-27 NIV
26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” 27 So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
Genesis 9 v16-17 NIV
16 Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.” 17 So God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant I have established between me and all life on the earth.”
Psalm 139 v 13 – 16a NLT
13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. 15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. 16 You saw me before I was born.
Proverbs 8 v 13 ESV
13 The fear of the Lord is hatred of evil.
Pride and arrogance and the way of evil
and perverted speech I hate.
Matthew 19 v 4 – 6 ESV
4 He [Jesus] answered, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, 5 and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? 6 So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”
Romans 1 v 21, 24 – 27 ESV
21 For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. 24 Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, 25 because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.
26 For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; 27 and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error.
Galatians 6 v 14 CSB
14 But as for me [Paul], I will never boast about anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. The world has been crucified to me through the cross, and I to the world.
2 Timothy 3 v 1 – 5a CSB
But know this: Hard times will come in the last days. 2 For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, proud, demeaning, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3 unloving, irreconcilable, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, without love for what is good, 4 traitors, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5 holding to the form of godliness but denying its power.
To briefly summarize, some of you may think these are intolerant words. I believe them to be God’s perfect plan for what He created. God’s way is worth celebrating! As the Apostle Paul put it, we take pride only in God’s work on the cross for us. With humility, Brenda.
*Note – the abbreviations following the references indicate the Bible translation used: Christian Standard Bible, English Standard Version, New International Version, New Living Translation.
For those of you who receive my blog via email subscription, thank you. The posts are better viewed by going to my blog website http://brendaproulx.com
Our family celebrated a long-awaited June reunion.
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.
For those of you who receive my blog via email subscription, thank you. The posts are better viewed by going to my blog website http://www.brendaproulx.com
The iconic image of a southern estate property often includes a sprawling live oak laden with cascading moss. If you are not familiar with southern flora, you may not realize that ‘live’ does not describe the tree as not dead, but it is the name of the predominant oak variety in the south, particularly the coastal south. A live oak inhabits our front yard, not a spectacular specimen, but other larger beauties grow on nearby properties.
The name ‘live’ refers to the presence of leaves on the tree all year long. Live oaks shed and regrow leaves throughout the year. But there are other good reasons for calling it live. Live oaks are known for their longevity, easily living hundreds of years. They also spare life and prevent destruction. Due to their low, spreading nature and deep, strong roots, they survive coastal storms. Early peoples knew to cling to live oaks for safety during hurricanes. Their broad shape buffers wind and protects surrounding structures. I find compelling beauty in the live oak’s gangly, low-spreading branches, especially when adorned with natural mossy tinsel.
The first song in the book of Psalms compares living a godly life to a prospering tree. Psalm 1 states that a godly man flourishes like a tree planted near a good water source. The well-watered tree produces fruit and lush foliage. The Psalm contrasts the godly life to the “wicked,” whose life and successes are short-lived. Psalm 1 describes right living or the righteous as separated from sinful ways and focused instead on God’s law (the Scriptures). Whether the psalmist had in mind the elegant symmetry of a maple, or the majestic reaches of a redwood, or the unique form of a live oak, a thriving life flows out of wise spiritual habits. Here is the first Psalm:
Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers; 2 but his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers. 4 The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; 6 for the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
This live oak is at Airlie Gardens in Wilmington, NC. The photo is from Wilmingtonandbeaches.com
This week, Christians continue joyously celebrating the risen Jesus, following Easter Sunday. As we ride the wave of resurrection victory, a detail from the four Gospel accounts caught my attention: fear. I had entertained the idea of writing about fear as part 3 of my living in North Carolina blog series. When fear showed up in the Biblical Easter story, I took the divine hint!
Why would I write about fear in a new-to-North Carolina piece? We do live in an area commonly referred to as the Cape Fear region, named so for the Cape Fear River. But I was not thinking about the river. I had in mind how old fears from Virginia transferred to new fears in North Carolina. In Virginia, I feared bats and ticks. Bats often darted over our heads as my husband and I took evening walks on our street. Bats are scary creatures, but what I was really afraid of was rabies: bats are the main carrier of rabies, when humans are infected. Human infection is rare, and usually people know when they get an animal bite … except when it comes to bat bites. I did not like that! Ticks? Yes, the prevalent deer tick. They carry Lyme disease, which can be a long-term, debilitating condition, difficult to diagnose and treat. I knew folks in Virginia who had it.
Of course, here in North Carolina we have bats and ticks (and deer), but I do not see bats on our walks, and I have not heard of any Lyme disease cases here. So, I’m fine now? No, I have found new things to be afraid of: alligators and Brown Recluse spiders! Hurricanes are worth being fearful of too, but there is a fair amount of warning time to make plans. Alligators and Brown Recluse spiders are hard to spot; victims are caught by surprise. And yes, I am aware of an alligator incident and a serious spider bite. Though my worries are relatively silly, they linger, along with other deeper trepidations. If I moved somewhere else, I am fairly sure my mind would find other things to fear. But let’s look at authentic fear.
In the resurrection narrative, folks faced real fear. The tomb guards were ‘scared stiff’ (Matthew 28 v 4). The women at the tomb “trembled” in bewilderment and fled in fear (Mark 16 v 8). Luke describes the women as having “fright” (Luke 24 v 3) and the disciples were also described as “startled and frightened” (Luke 24 v 37). John says the disciples hid in fear (John 20 v 19). What scared them? The scene of the empty tomb certainly shocked them. Just two days earlier they had witnessed the gruesome crucifixion of Christ and knew He was dead. After waiting out the Saturday Sabbath, they arrived at His burial site Sunday morning hoping to perform ministrations. The missing body stumped them in a terrifying way and they feared for their own lives too, as close followers of Jesus.
But the message on Easter morning was Good News! The angel at the empty tomb proclaimed, “Do not be afraid” (Matthew 28 v 5). Jesus appeared shortly after repeating, “Do not be afraid” (Matthew 28 v 10). Put similarly in other appearances to the disciples, Jesus greeted with the words, “Peace be with you” (Luke 24 v 36 and John 20 v 26). Jesus’ return to life, His triumph over death, which was His triumph over sin on our behalf, is spectacular and terrifying. It was unfathomable, to the point of pure fright, for those who first discovered it. For us today, a holy awe of fear for His selfless sacrifice and for the amazing spectacle of His Resurrection is our right response too.
“… we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” Hebrews 10 v 10
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.
Part 1 North Carolina Now
Two years ago this week, we moved into our new home near Wilmington, North Carolina. We left the DC area in the fall of 2020, but lived in temporary housing for several months, while we oversaw the building of our house. It was the height of the pandemic and we also lost my mother-in-law during this time. So I like to think of March as our real move anniversary.
Wilmington is a small, port city located on the Cape Fear River. UNC Wilmington is a major university, and the film industry is a presence in the area. Our town is on the outskirts of Wilmington. It has less city influence and a more rural southern personality. Farming and fishing were once the main businesses. While things are quickly changing here, the homey ways intrigue me.
Just down the street from us on the main highway of our town is a pawn shop. I see bikes, lawn equipment and surf boards propped up for sale in front of the store. I ventured into the store because I noticed a sign for jewelry repair. Sure enough, past the case of pawned jewelry and watches, and the inventory of sports equipment and power tools, I turned the corner through the guns and ammunition section, to find the small work space of a jeweler.
The jeweler wears a large leather cowboy hat and decorates his niche with neon-lit western motifs. His space is neat, and he is soft spoken, especially when you consider he’s from Long Island. He assessed my broken chain and gave me an estimate. I left it for repair and in a few hours got a text from him with a photo of my necklace draped on a lovely velvet model, saying, “Here she is!” The idea that my necklace was repaired by a New Yorker in a cowboy hat who works in a pawn shop where they sell guns and ammo amuses me.
Just a few buildings down the highway from the pawn shop is a paint store. We were sent there by our builder to select the interior colors for our house. “Go talk to Jimmy, ” we were told. Jimmy and his business partner, who both sport gray ponytails, run a no-fuss paint supply store. Without fanfare, they carry all the paint brands in all the colors. A gentle cat keeps them company and one of them drives a vintage truck always parked out in front. Neither of the guys ever wore a mask during the mandate period.
There’s also a warehouse fish market off the highway strip where I occasionally shop. The place is wet and stinky but I think I get fairly fresh catches there, though I’ve never tried the alligator. They fly the American flag on the porch, carry homemade birdhouses and advertise bushels of crabs for Mother’s Day. Young kids, probably relatives of the owner, run the counter. In deep southern twangs they can advise you on flavor and cooking methods.
This culture is new for me; so different from the cosmopolitan suburban area we left. I enjoy the downhome feel of the unincorporated town where we now live. It is appealingly unpretentious. That’s how I find the true local people too: down-to-earth, authentic, likeable. Don’t get me wrong, there are also many conveniences and amenities that I miss greatly now! But as I said, the area is changing quickly due to rapid growth and many outsiders who, like us, are moving in. I hope in our time here, it doesn’t completely lose its southern, country soul.
At the two year mark, my husband and I marvel that we are here, that we transitioned away from DC during such a crazy time. We are confident this is the new place for us now and thank God for His good provision. Like the Psalmist David wrote, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” (Psalm 16 v 6). Read all of Psalm 16 for insights into God’s goodness in this life and in eternity.
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.
Two years ago this week, we moved into our new home near Wilmington, North Carolina. We left the DC area in the fall of 2020, but lived in temporary housing for several months, while we oversaw the building of our house. It was the height of the pandemic and we also lost my mother-in-law during this time. So I like to think of March as our real move anniversary.
Wilmington is a small, port city located on the Cape Fear River. UNC Wilmington is a major university, and the film industry is a presence in the area. Our town is on the outskirts of Wilmington. It has less city influence and a more rural southern personality. Farming and fishing were once the main businesses. While things are quickly changing here, the homey ways intrigue me.
Just down the street from us on the main highway of our town is a pawn shop. I see bikes, lawn equipment and surf boards propped up for sale in front of the store. I ventured into the store because I noticed a sign for jewelry repair. Sure enough, past the case of pawned jewelry and watches, and the inventory of sports equipment and power tools, I turned the corner through the guns and ammunition section, to find the small work space of a jeweler.
The jeweler wears a large leather cowboy hat and decorates his niche with neon-lit western motifs. His space is neat, and he is soft spoken, especially when you consider he’s from Long Island. He assessed my broken chain and gave me an estimate. I left it for repair and in a few hours got a text from him with a photo of my necklace draped on a lovely velvet model, saying, “Here she is!” The idea that my necklace was repaired by a New Yorker in a cowboy hat who works in a pawn shop where they sell guns and ammo amuses me.
Just a few buildings down the highway from the pawn shop is a paint store. We were sent there by our builder to select the interior colors for our house. “Go talk to Jimmy, ” we were told. Jimmy and his business partner, who both sport gray ponytails, run a no-fuss paint supply store. Without fanfare, they carry all the paint brands in all the colors. A gentle cat keeps them company and one of them drives a vintage truck always parked out in front. Neither of the guys ever wore a mask during the mandate period.
There’s also a warehouse fish market off the highway strip where I occasionally shop. The place is wet and stinky but I think I get fairly fresh catches there, though I’ve never tried the alligator. They fly the American flag on the porch, carry homemade birdhouses and advertise bushels of crabs for Mother’s Day. Young kids, probably relatives of the owner, run the counter. In deep southern twangs they can advise you on flavor and cooking methods.
This culture is new for me; so different from the cosmopolitan suburban area we left. I enjoy the downhome feel of the unincorporated town where we now live. It is appealingly unpretentious. That’s how I find the true local people too: down-to-earth, authentic, likeable. Don’t get me wrong, there are also many conveniences and amenities that I miss greatly now! But as I said, the area is changing quickly due to
rapid growth and many outsiders who, like us, are moving in. I hope in our time here, it doesn’t completely lose its southern, country soul.
At the two year mark, my husband and I marvel that we are here, that we transitioned away from DC during such a crazy time. We are confident this is the new place for us now and thank God for His good provision. Like the Psalmist David wrote, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” (Psalm 16 v 6). Read all of Psalm 16 for insights into God’s goodness in this life and in eternity.
This year my birthday fell on Sanctity of Life Sunday. The irony was not lost on me: the day my birth is remembered, we remembered how important all life is and lamented the loss of millions whose lives were extinguished before the chance for a birth day. The Pro-Life stance has been maligned and labeled as oppressive, but God’s Truth completely ordains the infinite value of all life and qualifies God as sovereign over the beginning and end of all life.
The issue of life, or of abortion, has hit unparalleled rending in America. The elections of 2022 especially seemed to escalate the “right to life” divide, disregarding all other candidate credentials and capabilities. Likewise, it precipitated an unprecedented lawless leak in the highest court of our land. A sad moment for the integrity of the Supreme Court.
If I haven’t already lost you on this divisive topic, stay with me while I share something about the abortion argument that I only recently learned. A common talking point for those favoring abortion rights is the case of the life of the mother. To save a mother, the life of her baby should be taken, it is argued. In very rare instances, pregnancy might threaten a mother’s life. If a pregnant woman’s life is at risk, her doctor will attempt to save her life, not destroy the life of her baby. In other words, the necessary procedure is not at all an abortion but is a premature delivery. Her doctor will end the pregnancy by inducing labor or by performing a Caesarean section. The baby, depending on its gestational stage, will be treated and saved, or if it is too early, will not be viable and will die of natural causes. In both cases, parents of the baby can experience their baby’s birth or passing, demonstrating love for the precious little life. This is not a talking point that I had ever heard expressed in any secular discussion of the life issue.
Upon hearing this, it dawned on me that I had been familiar with a couple in this scenario. Their unborn baby was diagnosed with a serious prenatal condition. Even with advanced technology and specialist doctors, the condition rapidly worsened putting the mother and baby in danger. A C-section was performed but tragically, the baby was stillborn at birth. The consolation in the loss was the parents’ time of bonding and grieving, holding their tiny infant in their arms. The procedure did not result in a dismembered human body to be disposed of. It is important for all to know that the right to save a mother by medical procedures to deliver her baby is not outlawed in this country.
Just this week I again came across the familiar first five words of the Bible. Genesis 1 v 1 goes, “In the beginning God created.” Yes, He did. He created life. He determines the beginning and end of life. We cannot understand all the hard things some people experience; I have no easy answers for the myriad of difficult life stories out there. What I lean on is God’s sovereignty; He knows and I must leave it at that. I value life because God gives life, all life. And let us be warned that not valuing the life of a pre-born baby quickly spirals beyond: beyond to questioning the value of the aging, the diseased, the cognitively impaired, even a race or group that another race or group deems unwanted or disposable. In Jeremiah 17 v 9, God warns us of the endlessness of evil; so we “stand firm,” as God’s words through the Apostle Paul encourage us (2 Corinthians 15 v 58).
This past December, my husband and I were in an office supply store to buy a wall calendar. We like something big with large squares to write in appointments and events, and it hangs in the kitchen where we can see it daily. While checking out, a man (wearing a realtor nametag) commented to my husband that he hadn’t seen anyone use a paper calendar in years! The remark felt disrespectful and condescending to me. Of course, we are aware of digital calendars and on-line scheduling. We use technology options too but a calendar’s day-to-day visual reminder serves us well. Frankly, thanks to his comment, I won’t be calling the guy in the store for my real estate needs, but I suppose he’s right that wall calendars belong to the parent generation, the brunt of a series of recent insurance commercials.
I will be honest: I like calendars. Back in my classroom days, I kept several calendars up. The photos or art for each month aided conversation and content in my ESOL classroom. They added cheer and color to institutional walls and I find them cheerful now inside of closets, on the back of a door, and in a workspace. Some calendars remind me of a ministry with needs; others take me to a beautiful scene or share an artist’s work each month. My all-time favorite FREE calendar was the gorgeous photography and gardening news in the Merrifield Garden Center annual calendar but sadly I am not in Fairfax anymore to pick one up.
Calendars measure time, something precious and finite in the human experience. Belonging to the Author of Life, I thoughtfully consider time. I want to enjoy it, I don’t want to waste it and I know I am held accountable for it. I realize my earthly time will end one day. Already, I have attended two funerals in the new year. One life remembered was long, full and clearly dedicated to the Lord. The other memorial service also honored someone with a faithful legacy of serving the Savior, but the years were much short of the “span of seventy, maybe eighty years” described in Psalm 90 v 10.
We have quickly flipped over the first calendar page to February, torn off January, or digitally have swished or scrolled forward. We might still be in the mode of planning, goal setting, prioritizing or establishing better habits for the new year. That’s where I am too but I hope you are also considering how you will make your relationship to God a priority this year. How will you spend time with our very Author of Life, learn of Him in the Scriptures, and be encouraged by others who share faith in Jesus? David the Psalmist wrote that he “set the Lord always before” him (Psalm 16 v 8). The entirety of Psalm 16 describes the safety, value, goodness, joy, and LIFE in choosing Him as our priority. Blessings as you pursue Him fully in this unfolding new year.
Sweet generations remind us of the passage of time.
