Think You've Heard This One Before? (October 28, 2025)

 “There are no new storylines.” This is what I tell my students. All storylines originate from two sources: The Bible and Greek Mythology. Authors will play “dress up” and outfit a story with new character names, or a new location, but the basic storyline is always there. We were studying “Pyramus and Thisbe” the other day, which was the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. But I saw evidence of this truism - no new storylines - in Matthew, one of the books of the Bible, when Herod was manipulated/tempted by Herodias, the woman who ultimately requested John the Baptist’s head on a platter.

The first trope of the storyline is Adam and Eve, when Eve invited? tempted? convinced? - use the word you like - Adam to eat the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. From there, we see the trope appear again and again - Judah and Tamar; Samson and Delilah, and of course, Herod and Mrs. Herod.

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The difference between the Adam and Eve situation and Herod and Herodias’s is that sin hadn’t existed in the world yet. The impetus was still (which is a consistent element in the story) selfishness. In this case, the impetus was “I want to be like God.” It was still sin, but not horribly egregious yet because the desire was to be on an even plane with God, not to harm anyone else.

With all the other examples, they were fully saturated - marinated - in sin, meaning there was a slathering of other side sins fueling the action. For example, Herodias’s daughter, was the one providing entertainment for the men at the banquet. Herod was so pleased with her performance; he wanted to reward her. Her mom prompted her to request John the Baptist’s head. Let’s dial it back a bit.

Herodias’s first, real and true husband was Herod’s brother, Phillip. The details aren’t clear, but Herod and Herodias entered into a sinful relationship together. Was she forced? Was it consensual? While we might like to know the deets, it doesn’t matter to God. It’s just sin. Period. Whether voluntary or coerced, Herodias sacrificed everything - for sure her reputation, and possibly, her place in eternity to have earthly power, money and prestige. Could she have known how pivotal that sacrifice was? I believe the answer is yes. Whether they want to admit it or not, humans are made in God’s image, and as such, we are equipped with an innate sense of right and wrong.

In that line of thinking, John the Baptist was a pesky fruit fly at the dinner table of her life, annoying, relentless, and unwanted. His presence was a reminder of her sin, causing her conscience to be inflamed by his condemnation. If he was just gone, or would just shut up, she could ignore the inflammation and carry on.

Second, Herodias was more than likely, vain. I mean, two dudes had desired her. She knew she was a hot property. . .until she wasn’t. I’m sure it chapped her hide that her daughter had been invited to dance for the men, and not her. I think it’s safe to infer that her vanity and pride were both hurt. It was a reminder that she was getting old and no longer at the hot property level she once was. And on top it, that pest, John the Baptist, and. his message of sin and repentance, just added fuel to her already persistent internal inflammation. I imagine her thinking, “I sacrificed everything for it to end like THIS?!” A woman scorned is a dangerous women, as John the Baptist, sadly, found out.

I think the cautionary message here is that any one sin is NOT isolated. A sinful thought and/or action is usually “bundled” with other sin, thanks to the Fall. Selfishness was always a common theme; but after the Fall, it become a theme with multiple levels of complications called sin. This is what makes it all the more destructive and dangerous.

What’s the end game here? There’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that this is a storyline that is going to continue until Christ returns. Mindlessly, blindly, inattentively following my impulses and emotions is going to get me in a heap of trouble very quickly. And I certainly do not want to become the new villain of an age-old, sin-infused storyline on repeat.

The good news is that there is a way keep the damage to a minimum, and that is to keep one’s relationship with Christ a top priority. If I keep Christ close - like, so close that I see only Him, I learn His heart to an exponential degree so that He is the filter through which all thoughts and decisions pass. Not only does this help me to be more mindful - paying attention to my impulses and drilling down to my real motivation; it also ensures that my decisions and action reflect a God-like focus, and not a selfish one. It’s not a perfect plan, because while I am on this earth, I will never be perfect, but it’s better than the alternative.

So back to the original statement: “There are no new storylines.” Praise God, there aren’t, because at the end of humanity’s earthly story, the ending is clear, certain, and happy. There is victory, eternity, and even a white horse. And in the end, the Good Guy wins.

Trust the Farmer (October 28, 2025)

 It’s harvest right now. The crop has been taken, exposing the land for what it is.

As part of the process, a plow rips through the sod, upending the solid ground - tearing deep and creating uneven, nearly-impassable furrows where once it was smooth and provided structure and nourishment for a plant.

To leave it as it is over winter would harden the terrain, making it impossible for any new seed to be sown in the spring. What good is the field if it is unable to do what it was created for?

Thus, the violent ripping and tearing is necessary.

A pass from the disc continues the assault, breaking apart clods and refining them into smaller bits. The powdery, soft soil becomes the perfect growing environment, receptive to a tiny seed which will ultimately sprout into many shoots and plants.

To add insult to injury, the entire field is covered in foul-smelling manure, which is spread and dug into the soil. As is often the case in life, something ugly becomes beautiful. This undesirable, horrid waste provides just the right nutrients to fertilize the soil, spurring the plant to not only grow, but thrive.

In short, the process is necessary even though it seems destructive. In order for something to grow, something else must die. In order from something to grow, something needs to break down to prepare for the new. So it is in nature, and so it is with humans.

Right now, the plow is cutting deep. It is an upheaval of what was, it is confusing, it is unpleasant, and it is ugly. The exposed soil is covered in parasitic gulls who pick, choose, and take. The land is stripped, laid bare, unprotected.

But even in the midst of it, I trust the Farmer. He knows what He’s doing.

Each time I feel the cut of a new pain, insult, or devastation, I visualize the Farmer, standing on the edge of the field. He is the one Who has the plan. He is the Master of all timing. He keeps a watchful eye over the process. Nothing - no detail - escapes His notice.

Although He doesn’t orchestrate the aberrations to the plan - the accounted for hiccups which attempt to threaten progress and the process, He is ready for them. His whole existence is “pivot” - a Divine Pivot - which means that every aberration and hiccup is turned from a mistake to an adjustment. The end game - the desired end result - is no surprise to Him. In His infinite wisdom, He saw it coming and was ready for it.

My part in all this is to keep my eyes on Him and await His direction. Even when what He asks me to do, and that includes waiting, seems puzzling and ineffective, I know. I KNOW that I will smile when I look back and see what and how He did, combining all the brokenness, the hiccups, and yes, the obedience, into an end result far beyond what I could have asked for and imagined.

Trust and obey. For there’s no other way.

The Power of the Parable (October 28, 2025)

 The box hadn’t seen daylight for a while. I blew the dust off and opened the lid. There it was, wrapped in bubble wrap, just the way I had left it. I peeled back each layer and lifted the beautiful glass bowl. It gleamed in the sunlight, a thousand little prisms dancing on the wall.

And in the next second, those little prisms became jagged shards, littering the floor, a beautiful bowl no more. I’m not even sure what happened. I had always handled this bowl with intention and diligence, and in an instant, years of painstaking care was obliterated.

What is it about a story? Why is it that our ears are drawn to story? More importantly, why did Jesus use parables?

Matthew 13: 34-5 brought the question to mind. It says: “I will open my mouth in parable; I will declare things kept secret from the foundations of the world.” This was all to fulfill the prophecies.

A parable, by definition, is a simply story used to convey a moral or spiritual lesson.

As Jesus met with crowds, he used parable to draw them in. To answer the question I posed earlier, people’s ears are drawn to story. Perhaps they are nosy; perhaps, they seek themselves in the story. Perhaps, they relate to the content of the story and wonder, “How was the conflict resolved? What did that person, or character, do in that situation?”

The narrative structure of story helps the reader to organize and analyze information in a logical format. Creation was, among other things, order from chaos, and the human mind seeks to do the same with regard to life.

To simply start preaching (e.g. John the Baptist style) was effective with small groups of people who were also seekers, AND, as a result, it elicited confrontation from others whose ears were not ready to hear. To simply attest the truth blatantly would have invited argument and debate, particularly with the Pharisees. It would have been more counterproductive as unbelievers/seekers would have been discouraged and disgusted (much as people today are) and would have walked away, negating Christ’s intentions and earthly purposes.

In story, the message is inferred. Those who are truly seeking will find (as promised in Matthew 7:7). These “secrets” will be/were revealed to those who really want/wanted to know/learn them and believe. Those who don’t seek or believe simply hear a lame, seemingly purposeless and most definitely, confusing story, BUT all is not lost. They have heard it. A seed is planted. What happens next is described in Matt 13: 1-8.

Parables have morals to the story, which are obtainable, digestible, and meaningful to those who want them. They indicate how a believer should proceed; in addition, they provide the road map on how to do it.

There was no “fix” for the bowl. All the care that had gone into preserving and protecting it proved to be futile in the end. The real tragedy of the bowl is that it sat idle in a box for most of its “shelf life.” Bowls were created to be used, not sit on shelves, waiting for a special occasion. As a result, bowls get nicked, they get scratched, the finish becomes dull, and yes, they break. What’s the moral to the story?

You decide.

The Chosen One (July 29, 2026)

 My bestie and I go back and forth all the time with random thoughts. Last night, I had just finished reading Genesis 17, and I sent her a text with this as the opening question: “Why was Abraham the chosen one?”

Why Abram, indeed?

Well, let’s see. He was the oldest son, in a lineage tied to the oldest son of Noah, Shem. Ok, so he is a firstborn, and while I can appreciate that distinction, David was a pretty big deal as well, and he was the baby.

For every positive to support Abram as a good choice, there is a coordinating negative.

On the positive side, he was obedient. In Genesis 12, God said: “Go out from your land, your relatives, and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you. I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you. I will curse anyone who treats you with contempt, and all the peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” So Abram went. And in considering the dangling carrot God laid before him, I can see why.

And then. . .when he gets to Egypt, Abram gets scared and lies - says his wife is his sister. This results in all sorts of bad juju for Egypt, and the Pharoah gives Abram’s whole posses the boot.

Abram redeems himself by being a nice guy and letting Lot have first pick of the land. Then, he later rescues Lot and refuses to be rewarded from King Melchizedek. But then, he loses points when he lets himself be bullied by wifey into having a kid with Hagar.

It seems as though Abram/Abraham is just like us - a two steps forward and one step back shuffle through life.

It was the tea party with God under the tree in Genesis 18 that made me stop and think. In verse 19, God says, “For I have chosen him [Abraham] so that he will command his children and his house after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just. This is how the Lord will fulfill to Abraham what he promised him.”

The question isn’t really about why God chose Abraham. He just did. The why is up to Him. I missed the important part - I was focusing on the “why” versus the “how.”

First, let’s talk a minute about parenting. You know, the hardest job in the world, the job that keeps you up at night, the job at which you think you fail more than you succeed? Ok, maybe that’s just me, but my current life situation allows me plenty of time and opportunities to mull over the coulda-shoulda-wouldas of me as a parent.

I’m going to generalize here, but I would guess that most of us as parents were really proficient at pointing out potential dangers and pitfalls to our children: “Don’t get in a car with a stranger,” “Don’t swim out too far; the current is strong,” “Always call ahead and make sure someone is waiting for you.” You get the gist.

These, of course, were all said out of love and concern - wanting to protect, keep our kids safe, provide a sensible framework in which to grow, and etc. There is nothing wrong with that, and in fact, that’s a parent’s job. Likewise, these all sound proactive, but they are equally reactive - reactions to real or imagined dangers that kids might encounter. Again, not wrong, but let’s call it what it is.

So what does this all have to do with verse 19? Well, it dawned on me that perhaps God was being a proactive parent? God knew about Abraham’s fortes and foibles. He had been watching the play-by-play of His chosen one. I mean, just before verse 19, both Abram and Sarai (now Sarah) had laughed at the prospect of becoming parents as well as centenarians - usually an impossible pairing.

Instead of chewing Abraham out and giving him a pep talk of do’s and don’ts, God reminds Abraham that he IS the chosen one. He WILL command his children and his house after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just. This is how the Lord WILL fulfill to Abraham what he promised him.

By reminding him of his favor and by telling Abraham of His confidence in him, God is basically saying: Abraham, you got his. I know you. You have what it takes; that’s why I chose you. Now, get after it.

Abraham, like all of us, seems to be enervated by the boost of confidence. When someone expresses their confidence in us - their belief in our character and ability to make good decisions, we generally respond by trying to live up to expectations. This causes us, like Abraham, to feel valued, trusted, and trustworthy. Although we have the independence to make our own decisions and choices, we choose wisely because we know someone believes we will, and we don’t want to disappoint.

Now that’s good parenting.

But is this an accurate interpretation of the verse? I don’t know. I am not a Biblical scholar. All I have to go on is evidence in the text. And in the following verses, when God shares his plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah with Abraham and his companions, Abraham boldly and confidently steps forward to ask God some tough “what-if” questions, the end of which results in God’s decision to spare S and G if only 10 righteous people are found. This seems to suggest that Abraham is striving already to live up to God’s expectations and confidence in him.

As to being the “chosen one,” we all fall into that category. “From one man he has made every nationality to live over the whole earth and has determined their appointed times and boundaries of where they live. HE DID THIS SO THAT THEY MIGHT SEEK GOD and perhaps reach out and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.” (Acts 17: 26-27). We were purposely created for this time and in this place to seek God, to seek God and His Will, and like Abraham, command our children to do what is right and just. “You got his. I know you. You have what it takes; that’s why I chose you. Now, get after it.”

Did I/We Do the Right Thing? (July 8, 2026)

 About three hours ago, our beloved Juno, a half pug half rat terrier, was put to sleep. She was 18 1/2 years old. She had been in our family since she was four months old. June has been with us for half of our entire married life.

In the last year, she had lost control of her back end. Her back legs often gave out, bowel and bladder control were increasingly more out of control. She had cataracts and couldn’t hear as well. All understandable given her age. But Juno’s sniffer worked fine; she could smell the neighbor dogs on the road with no difficulty. And she was still a loyal companion. As always, she followed me around as best she could. She slept 90% of her days away, and during the 10%, she was always nearby.

Given all her difficulties, given the fact that she was no longer able to enjoy the lake in the same way (if not leashed, she would roll right into the water), given the fact that she had lost a lot of weight, given the fact that I had to carry her in and out of the house to do her business, and given the fact that she was increasingly failing, we agreed to have her put to sleep today.

Our logic was that we wanted her to feel safe and loved vs. have to be put to sleep because something traumatic had happened. Both of our kids and their families made a point to come by and say goodbye to her. Both my husband and I were there with her to the end. Both of us petted and talked to her through it all. She went to sleep, and we stayed with her after it was all done. We just love her so much.

And yet, I am STRUGGLING with guilt. Did we do the right thing? Was it more humane to do it this way, or would it have been better to wait until. . .what? She hurt herself? Was worse? I tried bargaining with God - lots of prayers - please just let her go to sleep, but that didn’t happen.

I love that dog more than anything.

Please tell me.

Did I do right by her?

The Wisest Tree (July 2, 2026)

 When I was in 9th grade, I had to do a leaf project for a science class in school. We were required to collect a pre-determined list of leaves and then create a booklet in which we recorded the latin name as well as the attributes. I scavenged for what I could within town and around my house, but I remember a family field trip to Sibley State Park to get the rest.

Growing up, my family (and Mike’s) burned wood to warm the house. Many hours were spent splitting, hauling, and stacking wood. I learned that finding an ash tree was like winning the lottery. Their hard wood would burn longer than the rest, and pines were generally messy - sap sticking to everything.

At the time, I really didn’t give two hoots about trees, but as it goes with many things in life, interests change. I now find trees. . .and birds. . .and bugs. . .and flowers to be interesting. Go figure.

Trees are like people - always growing and dying, with personalities to boot. Mike and I are fortunate to live on an acreage that has a variety of all of the above. We have showy attention-seeking maples, a couple of which the previous owners shipped in from Wisconsin (a reminder of where they grew up, is what I was told). They hold their Proms in the fall; it’s when they put on their finest colors for all to admire.

The cottonwood across the road loves a good parade in the spring. He throws white confetti, which covers everything. It can be a little annoying, but I prefer this white stuff over the other. Plus, his massive trunk and branches are a helpful buffer when the north winds blow across the field.

The basswood is a girly girl. Right around now, she is covered with creamy fragrant blooms; her beauty and perfume cannot be ignored. Not only does she attract the attention of the humans; the bees flock to her as well.

The evergreens are the silent, no-nonsense soldiers that guard the perimeter, blocking the view, dust and wind. Their looks never change - no matter the season, but in spite of their gruff exterior, they are softies on the inside (literally). Squirrels love to play on their branches; the hummingbirds and Cardinals often hide in and bunnies hide underneath.

Birch trees seem to be the wisest of all trees. Some people might say oaks are; after all, the Greek god, Zeus, chose it as his sacred tree. But I would say that oaks are more well-known for their strength and stubbornness, not necessarily wisdom. They have staying power, often living longer than most, and have the ability to withstand some of the biggest storms that life throws at them.

I often get annoyed with birch trees. They shed so much - like, so much. I am FOREVER picking up branches; in fact, I could be out there everyday, and there would be a fresh crop waiting for me.

But that’s where the wisdom part comes in: Birches let things go.

The most easily recognizable and identifiable aspect of a birch tree is its bark. It’s typically white (the most iconic (but not only) color) and has horizontal lines. What you may not know is that these lines are called lenticels; they allow the tree to breathe.

So the birch tree has perfected the art of breathing and letting things go.

By shedding the dead branches, the birch can grow in stature and strength. It can continue to create the bark that people find so beautiful and useful (and that which little kids find irresistible to peel - I got yelled at a few times for doing that as a kid).

For humans, the act of letting go can be annoying and sometimes painful, but it doesn’t have to be. Like the birch branches, the detritus of letting go always seems to be visible and ever-present.

But you know what? The birch cares not. Its focus is not looking down, but moving upward, surviving and thriving.

Trees are so smart.