Guideposts December 2021

INSPIRATION FOR LIFE
DEC/JAN 2022
ENTERTAINER
EXTRAORDINAIRE
KRISTIN
CHENOWETH
The Gift That
Changed the World
Tired of Negative
Self-Talk?
ƀƄȑT&GNȑT>ȑ
FLIP YOUR
SCRIPT!
PHOTO ESSAY
A Day in
the Life of Santa
5 Ways to Be a
Better Caregiver for
Yourself and
Your Loved One p.54
OVERCOMING
ADDICTION
A SoulCycle Instructor
Finds His Soul
PLUS
INSPIRATION
FROM
Erin Napier
LeVar Burton
Francis Chan
EDITOR’S NOTE
The Light of God

As I write this, a number of weeks before you read it, the
days are getting noticeably shorter, darkness coming on
earlier, especially out here in the Berkshires, where the old
hills swallow the light even before the sun sets.
Interesting then that one of our editors reading through
the proofs of this issue said, “Hey, this is the issue of light!”
The nature of light has always befuddled me. How can
it be both particle and wave? I’ve been trying to grasp that
EDWARD fundamental duality since I took Physics for Poets at the
GRINNAN University of Michigan to satisfy the science requirement.
Editor-in-Chief It reminds me of that loopy novelty song from the 1950s
you might remember: “Istanbul was Constantinople. Now
it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople….”
This confusion is not new to me. As a youngster learning
my catechism, the Holy Trinity was a real head-scratcher.
How could God be three persons yet one? Most of my
teachers dismissed my questions with a sharp “God can
be anything he wants.”
There was one, though, Sister Agnes, who tried to
illuminate me. She said to think of God as a powerful beam
of light divided into three parts. “Like when you spread
ǊŪƬƐɱǞɱşıĘƐƘɱŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘɱĉĘíŝɱŪİɱíɱǡɱíƘĸŔĽıĸƤɁɱ¸ĸĘɱŔĽıĸƤɱŝĽıĸƤɱ
split apart, but it is still the same beam of light. That’s
ǄĸǊɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĸĽşıɱEŪđɱđĽđɱǄíƘɱƤŪɱĽşİƬƘĘɱŔĽıĸƤɱĽşƤŪɱƤĸĘɱ
darkness of the void.”
Did that mean God created himself? Sister Agnes only
smiled at that question. I was a curious kid.
There are indeed a number of references to light in our
stories this issue: the light of gratitude, the light of forgive-
ness, the light of acceptance, the light of faith, the light of
KATYE MARTENS BRIER
redemption. Not by design, necessarily—at least not by our

đĘƘĽışɁɱÝĘƤɱĽƘşɥƤɱĽƤɱǞɱƤƤĽşıɱƤĸíƤɱEŪđɱĽŔŔƬŝĽşíƤĘđɱŪƬƐɱǄŪƐŔđɱĉǊɱ
sending his son, the light of the world, who was both God and
man, to redeem us from the darkness? I hope our stories this
issue bring a little of that light into your home this Christmas.
2 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022 Check out Edward’s blog at guideposts.org/edblog

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G U I D E P O S T S .O R G 3
INSPIRATION FOR LIFE
guideposts.org
Dec/Jan 2022 Volume 77, Issue 1
Features OVERCOMING ADDICTION

42 The Power of
Surrender
ɱǞɱƤşĘƘƘɱĽşƘƤƐƬĊƤŪƐɥƘɱŎŪƬƐşĘǊɱ
İƐŪŝɱíđđĽĊƤɱƤŪɱɢƘŪƬŔɱĽşƘƍĽƐĘƐɁɣ
By NOA SHAW
Brooklyn, New York
CAREGIVERS
49 The Light of Faith
ŔǔĸĘĽŝĘƐɥƘɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱĘǉƤĽşıƬĽƘĸɱ
ƤĸĘɱĊŪşşĘĊƤĽŪşɱƤĸĘǊɱƘĸíƐĘđɁ
By KRISTEN KEMP
Montclair, New Jersey
COVER PHOTOGRAPHED FOR GUIDEPOSTS BY LARSEN&TALBERT; THIS PAGE: CORY O’NEILL

PHOTO ESSAY
56 A Day in the Life
of Santa
«ƍƐĘíđĽşıɱƤĸĘɱǄŪşđĘƐɱ
72 ŪİɱƤĸĘɱĸŪŔĽđíǊɁ
By CELESTE MCCAULEY
BUILDING STRONGER FAMILIES and KAREN PULFER FOCHT
Trust Over Fear FAITH IN ACTION
DŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɂɱĸĘƐɱđíƬıĸƤĘƐɱĸíđɱ
íɱƍƐŪĉŔĘŝɱƤĸĽƘɱŝŪŝɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱǞɱǉɁ 60 Moments of Hope
ɱĸŪƘƍĽƤíŔɱĊĸíƍŔíĽşɱđĽƘĊŪǃĘƐƘɱ
By JULIE O’NEILL
ƤĸĘɱĊŪƬƐíıĘɱĉĘĸĽşđɱĊŪŝƍíƘƘĽŪşɱ
Deschutes County, Oregon
ŪşɱƤĸĘɱİƐŪşƤɱŔĽşĘƘɱŪİɱŪǃĽđɁ
By ADAM RUIZ
Louisville, Kentucky
COVER STORY
36 The Gift That ANIMALS AND HEALING
Changed the World 66 Hello, Dolly!
«ŪŝĘƤĽŝĘƘɱƤĸĘɱıƐĘíƤĘƘƤɱƍƐĘƘĘşƤɱ ɱƍƬƍƍǊɱǄíƘɱđĘǞɱşĽƤĘŔǊɱ
ĊŪŝĘƘɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱĸƬŝĉŔĘƘƤɱƍíĊőíıĘɁ şŪƤɱƍíƐƤɱŪİɱĸĽƘɱƐĘƤĽƐĘŝĘşƤɱƍŔíşƘɁ
By KRISTIN CHENOWETH By CHUCK TURK
New York, New York Niceville, Florida
4 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

STORY OF A SONG
71 Mary, Did You Know?
ɱƘŪşıǄƐĽƤĘƐɥƘɱđĽǃĽşĘɱĽşƘƍĽƐíƤĽŪşɁ
By ROBERTA MESSNER
Contributing Editor
TRAVELS FROM THE HEART 42
78 Christmas in Nairobi
¸ĸĘǊɱǄĘƐĘɱƘƤƐíşđĘđɱĽşɱdĘşǊíɱ
íİƤĘƐɱíɱŝĽƘƘĽŪşɱƤƐĽƍɁɱŪƬŔđɱƤĸĘǊɱƐĘíŔŔǊɱ
ĊĘŔĘĉƐíƤĘɱƤĸĽƘɱİíƐɱİƐŪŝɱĸŪŝĘɈ
FROM TOP: TODD PLITT; GRANT HALVERSON; ALTON STRUPP/COURIER JOURNAL VIA IMAGN CONTENT SERVICES, LLC; SCOTT GOLDSMITH
By EDWINA PERKINS
Cary, North Carolina
POSITIVE PEOPLE
82 Annie’s Way
fĽİĘɘĊĸíşıĽşıɱŔĘƘƘŪşƘɱİƐŪŝɱ
ƤĸĘɱŪǄşĘƐɱŪİɱíɱşíĽŔɱƘíŔŪşɁ
By ROBERTA MESSNER
Huntington, West Virginia 78
SPIRITUAL NOTEBOOK
88 Upheld
¸ĸĽƘɱƐƬşşĘƐɱđĽđşɥƤɱƤĸĽşőɱƘĸĘɱĊŪƬŔđɱ
ŝíőĘɱĽƤɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱĸĘƐɱƐíĊĘɱƬşƤĽŔɱíɱĽĉŔĘɱ
ŝĘƘƘíıĘɱŝǊƘƤĘƐĽŪƬƘŔǊɱŝíđĘɱĽƤɱƤŪɱĸĘƐɁɱ
By BETH POTTLE
Wilmington, North Carolina
YOUR FAVORITES
2 Editor’s Note
7 More Inspiration at 60
Guideposts.org
8 The Up Side
10 Spirit Lifting
12 Someone Cares
35 Mysterious Ways
92 What Prayer Can Do
95 Family Room
98 Continued
TURN FOR MORE STORIES

82
Inspired Living
GREETINGS FROM
SMALL-TOWN AMERICA
20 Leavenworth,
Washington
ɱƤíƘƤĘɱŪİɱíǃíƐĽíɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱíƘĊíđĘƘɁ
By CATHERINE MADERA
EVERYDAY BLESSINGS
22 Let It Shine
-ǃĘƐǊĉŪđǊɱĽƘɱíɱƘƤíƐɁ
By KATIE BROWN
EVERYDAY GREATNESS
24 Jen Owens
LŪǄɱíɱ¸ĸíşőƘıĽǃĽşıɱıíƤĸĘƐĽşıɱ
ĽşƘƍĽƐĘđɱŪşĘɱǄŪŝíşɥƘɱŝĽƘƘĽŪşɁ
By ELENA TAFONE
VERSES TO LIVE BY
26 A New Beginning
«ĊƐĽƍƤƬƐĘƘɱƤŪɱĉĘıĽşɱǊŪƬƐɱǊĘíƐɱíşđɱ
ĸĘŔƍɱǊŪƬɱıƐŪǄɱĽşɱİíĽƤĸɁ
By RICK HAMLIN
34 27 Smile!
«ĸíƐĘɱƤĸĘɱŎŪǊɁ
POSITIVE THINKER
KEEPING THE FAITH
Erin Napier
The Home TownɱƘƤíƐɱƘĸíƐĘƘɱĸĘƐɱ 28 A Spiritual Winter
ƘƍĽƐĽƤƬíŔɱǄĘŔŔɘĉĘĽşıɱƘĘĊƐĘƤƘɁ ¸ĸĘɱƏƬĽĘƤɱƘĘíƘŪşɱİŪƐɱƤĸĘɱƘŪƬŔɁ
By CELESTE MCCAULEY By TY’ANN BROWN
PRAYER POWER
30 Off to a Good Start
INSPIRED LIVING SECTION ¸ĸĘɱĉĘƘƤɱǄíǊɱƤŪɱĉĘıĽşɱǊŪƬƐɱđíǊɁ
By BOB HOSTETLER
14 Flip Your Script! DESTINATION INSPIRATION
¸ƬşĘɱŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱşĘıíƤĽǃĘɱƘĘŔİɘƤíŔőɁ
By DIANE STARK
32 Holy Trinity Church,
Antarctica
LARSEN&TALBERT
3 QUESTIONS EŪđɥƘɱŔĽıĸƤɱĊíşɱƐĘíĊĸɱíşǊǄĸĘƐĘɛ
18 Francis Chan ĘǃĘşɱĸĘƐĘɂɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐŔđɥƘɱŝŪƘƤɱ
fŪǃĘɂɱđŪşɥƤɱŎƬđıĘɁ đĘƘŪŔíƤĘɱŔíşđƘĊíƍĘɁ
By CELESTE MCCAULEY By KAYLIN KAUPISH

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ƘƍĽƐĽƤƬíŔɱĉĘşĘǞɱƤƘɱŪİɱĘǉĘƐĊĽƘĘɁɱ×íƤĊĸɱ uplifting one another. Submit your
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the up side
®
QUOTES FROM TODAY’S POSITIVE THINKERS
“Give! Consideration, patience,

love. Making the world a
better place begins with you!”
actor DENNIS HAYSBERT
“The man who built that

manger had one purpose in
mind… God has another. You’ll
never know how far-reaching
God’s plan is for your work.”
MARK HART, author, speaker, cohost of
The Catholic Guy Show on SiriusXM
“Regrets are a waste of time…

when there’s so much
beauty and love and humor
in this world.”
RITA MORENO, EGOT-winning actor
“No emptiness ever

stays empty.
-ŝƍƤǊɱƍŔíĊĘƘɱíŔǄíǊƘɱǞɱŔŔɁɣ
ANN VOSKAMP, author
IAN TUTTLE/GETTY IMAGES FOR BREAKTHROUGH PRIZE
May you never be

Gratitude is the too grown up to
grace that makes search the skies on
ƤĸĘɱĉŔĘƘƘĽşıƘɱǡɱŪǄɁɣ Christmas Eve.”
as seen on Pinterest
LEVAR BURTON,
actor and television host
SEND AN UPLIFTING QUOTE from a newsmaker or yourself to upside@guideposts.org

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“Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace
on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
—LUKE 2:14 (NLT)
During the Christmas season, I hang a marquee sign

across our carport that lights up the word PEACE. This
year when I turned it on, it read ACE. I have another
ƘĽışɱşĘǉƤɱƤŪɱŪƬƐɱǞɱƐĘƍŔíĊĘɱƤĸíƤɱƐĘíđƘɱJOY, but the J was
out, leaving us with only OY. So I decided to buy some
new lighting that spelled out HOPE. The letters arrived
yesterday. No H. Just OPE.
×ĸíƤɱíɱƐĘǡɱĘĊƤĽŪşɱŪşɱŝǊɱŔĽİĘɆɱ«ĘíƐĊĸĽşıɱİŪƐɱĊŪŝƍŔĘƤĘɱ
peace, joy and hope but not quite there yet. This is where
Jesus comes in. Into my brokenness. Our brokenness.
×ĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱĉƐĽıĸƤşĘƘƘɱŪİɱĸĽƘɱŔŪǃĘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱ}şĘɱǄĸŪɱǄíƘɱĉŪƐşɱ
in a stable is used to bringing peace, joy and hope into
our messy lives. He does it with angel choirs and brilliant
stars. Loving us right where we are.
QƤɱĽƘɱĉĘĊíƬƘĘɱŪİɱbĘƘƬƘɱíşđɱĸĽƘɱƍƐĘƘĘşĊĘɱĽşɱŪƬƐɱŔĽǃĘƘɱƤĸíƤɂɱ
on this cold December morning, we can have truckloads
ŪİɱOY,ɱíɱƍŪǄĘƐİƬŔɱƘĘşƘĘɱŪİɱOPE and an all-encompassing
ĉŔíşőĘƤɱŪİɱACE on earth, goodwill toward men.
—SUSANNA FOTH AUGHTMON
Faith Step: Go outside, raise your hands in the air

and thank Jesus for the peace,
joy and hope he has showered on your life.
Enjoy more devotions written especially for women

in Mornings With Jesus 2022.
Order online at shopguideposts.org.
someone cares
PASS IT ON
WARM WISHES postcards. Several students told

GO AROUND ŝĘɱƤĸĽƘɱǄíƘɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱĊíƐđɱ
I t was the last day of school before

Christmas break. One of my
second-grade students came up to
they’d ever gotten that was ad-
đƐĘƘƘĘđɱƤŪɱƤĸĘŝɱƘƍĘĊĽǞɱĊíŔŔǊɁ
I’ve done the same thing with
my desk and asked me to help her birthday and other greeting cards
read the card I’d given her. I’ve received. It’s a great way to
“I love how everybody’s card has recycle them and pass on the warm
a different picture on the front,” wishes to someone else.
she told me. “It makes all of the cards LEAH SCHUCH
feel special.” Brazil, Indiana
Rather than give my students
identical cards out of a brand-new THE GIFT OF KINDNESS
box, I saved up the Christmas cards
I’d been given. I cut off the colorful
front of each card and wrote per-
O n Christmas morning, I was
surrounded by my children,
grandchildren and great-grandchil-
sonalized messages on the back, turn- dren. There were presents under
ing the cards into unique holiday the tree. None of them were for me,
and I couldn’t have been happier.
I have more than enough, so
I’d asked my family not to buy me
anything but instead to help
ƘŪŝĘŪşĘɱĽşɱşĘĘđɱǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɲŝŪşɘ
ey they would have spent on
me. Family members told me
about some of the wonder-
İƬŔɲƤĸĽşıƘɱƤĸĘǊɥđɱđŪşĘɁɱ}şĘɱ
grandchild had bought new
shoes and winter boots for
ĊĸĽŔđƐĘşɱŔĽǃĽşıɱĽşɱƍŪǃĘƐƤǊɁɲşɘ
ILLUSTRATIONS BY COCO MASUDA
ŪƤĸĘƐɱĸíđɱđŪşíƤĘđɱƤŪɱíşɲŪƐɘ
ganization that helps grieving
mothers. Others had purchased
gifts for kids who had posted
Christmas wish lists on their
church’s giving tree.
My heart swelled as I pictured all

upcoming graduation. Carlie
said she was taking a gap year
ĉĘİŪƐĘɱĸĘíđĽşıɱŪİİɱƤŪɲĊŪŔɘ
lege. She would be
teaching children at a
school and helping
support new mothers
at a clinic in Knysna,
«ŪƬƤĸɱİƐĽĊíɁɱQŝŝĘɘ
diately, I knew who
would be getting my
extra devotional.
Now, as I read the
devotions each day, I pray
for Carlie, supporting her as she
the people who had a nicer holiday helps others far from home.
because of these acts of kindness. It JERILYN LOWERY
was the best Christmas gift I could Batesville, Indiana
have received.
GERRY NEWMAN
Edgar, Wisconsin
DEVOTED
E very year, I get an extra copy of my

favorite devotional (full disclo-
sure: it’s Daily Guideposts), and
I pray about who I should give it
to. I ask God to direct me to a
ƍĘƐƘŪşɱǄĸŪɱǄŪƬŔđɱĉĘşĘǞɱƤɱ
from reading it each day, just
the way I do.
Last spring, my extra
devotional copy was still
sitting on a bookshelf. One
Thursday, I bumped into Carlie,
a former student from my time as a
high-school English teacher. I asked
her what she planned to do after her
Have your own story of kindness and caring to tell? E-mail us at sc@guideposts.org.
INSPIRED LIVING
Negative self-talk
bringing you down?
Try our tips to
Flip Your
Script!
By DIANE STARK, Contributing Editor
Do you struggle with negative thoughts…about

yourself? Do you say things to yourself that you
would never say to a friend or loved one? It’s an
easy habit to get into, but it takes a toll on your
GETTY IMAGES
spiritual well-being. We’ve put together 15 tips

for developing positive self-talk. Try one or
more each day and learn to be kinder to yourself.

MORE
POSITIVITY
1 Reflect on past 2 Say something ONLINE
experiences. Your nice about yourself. Check out the
brain can replay your Better yet, ask a friend interactive version
mistakes or other peo- or family member to of this challenge
ple’s criticism. Under- describe your positive at guideposts.org
standing the source of attributes. Be sure to /positiveselftalk
negative self-talk is key. return the favor!
INSPIRED LIVING
3 Believe compliments.
Don’t dismiss someone’s kind
words about you. Take them
in, and let them become part of
your internal script. Appreciate
yourself and your gifts!
4 Remember how pounds around your your state of mind.

God sees you. The middle, take one small Do something fun and
Bible says that you are step to improve the watch your self-talk
made in God’s image. situation. Clean out a improve too.
drawer. Cross off one
5 Come up with a task. Take a walk.
self-affirming mantra.
Here are some ideas: “I 7 Keep a journal of
am strong and coura- these small steps.
geous.” “Nothing can If a negative thought
dim my light.” “I am arises, you can look
loved and loving.” “I back to see how far
can make a difference.” you’ve come. Remem-
ber, success comes one
6 Seek progress, small step at a time.
not perfection. Instead
of beating yourself up 8 Boost your mood.
over your messy kitch- Your thoughts and
en, your mile-long feelings about yourself
to-do list or the extra can vary depending on

9 Reevaluate the
labels that have been
put on you, both by
yourself and by others.
Do you call yourself
an airhead because you
misplace your keys?
Do you think of your-
self as someone who
doesn’t get things done
because a teacher in
high school once said
CLOCKWISE, FROM TOP: GETTY IMAGES, STOCKSY (2)
you had trouble meet-

ing due dates? It’s time
to rethink those labels.
Many of your negative
thoughts might not
even be true.
10 Do something
kind for someone else.
Reaching out to help
others will not only lift
your spirits but also remind you that God 13 Accentuate the
has a purpose for you. positive. Put inspiring
íİǞɱƐŝíƤĽŪşƘɱŪƐɱĽŝíıĘƘɱ
11 Think about how in places where you’ll
you talk to friends and see them often.
loved ones. Don’t say
anything to yourself 14 Start each day
that you wouldn’t say anew. Don’t berate
to them. yourself for yesterday.
Just make the most of
12 Spend time in today’s opportunities.
nature. Step outside
and take note of all 15 Ask God for help.
the wonderful and He loves you just as you
beautiful things that are, and he can help
God has created— you learn to love and
including you. accept yourself.
3 QUESTIONS
Francis
Chan
PASTOR &
BEST-SELLING
AUTHOR
Francis Chan has been a pastor for more than 30 years. He is the New York Times
best-selling author of Crazy Love, Letters to the Church and Until Unity. He and
his wife, Lisa, have been married nearly 30 years and co-authored You and Me
Forever. Francis is currently in Northern California, teaching and discipling the
next generation of pastors and leaders. —CELESTE MCCAULEY, Editor
1
How can churches unify and ministries, each believing their
during these divisive times? theology or methodology is superior.
We are currently the most We need to stop thinking that our
divided faith group on earth. We primary duty toward our fellow
have thousands of denominations believers is to critique them. It’s not.

INSPIRED LIVING
Our primary duty is to love them. if the prayer was becoming a

QɥŝɱĊŪşǞɱđĘşƤɱbĘƘƬƘɥɱĊŪŝŝíşđƘɱĽşɱ strainer for his thoughts. Instead of
ƤĸĘɱĽĉŔĘɱƤŪɱŔŪǃĘɱíşđɱĉĘɱƬşĽǞɱĘđɱíşđɱƤŪɱ rushing into God’s presence full
avoid controversy are meant to be of thoughts and needs and ideas, my
ƤíőĘşɱŔĽƤĘƐíŔŔǊɁɱ¸ŪŪɱŪİƤĘşɱǄĘɱǞɱǉíƤĘɱ friend was able to center his mind
on our disagreements, and we feel on God. “Hallowed be your name.
as if we can’t worship with such big Your kingdom come. Your will be
elephants in the room. But God is done.” When we pray the Lord’s
ĽşǞɱşĽƤĘŔǊɱŔíƐıĘƐɱƤĸíşɱŪƬƐɱĘŔĘƍĸíşƤƘɁɱ Prayer, we don’t ask for anything. It’s
QɱƤĸĽşőɱƘĽŔĘşĊĘɱĽƘɱíɱĉĽıɱƬşĽǞɱĘƐɁɱ×ĸĘşɱ so cleansing. You begin to realize
everyone comes in talking, whoever how God-centric the Lord’s Prayer
has the loudest voice, the most charis- is and how egocentric some of our
matic personality, gets listened to. own prayers can be.
3
But it’s chaotic with everyone
screaming. When we all agree that What is your hope for the
God is worth bowing down to, new year?
silence can really help unify. If I have New Year’s Day is my favorite
any ill feelings toward another holiday. I love fresh starts. I think we
ŝĘŝĉĘƐɂɱQɱǄíşƤɱƤŪɱĘǉíŝĽşĘɱƤĸíƤɁɱQɱ all do. We look back at mistakes and
want to be one with them at the wish we could have a do-over. Not
communion table, to dwell in silence that I make all these resolutions, but
before the bread and the cup with ƤĸĘƐĘɱĽƘɱíŔǄíǊƘɱƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱĘǉĊĽƤĽşıɱ
them. The communion table is ƤŪɱƤĸĽşőɱíĉŪƬƤɁɱbƬƘƤɱƤƬƐşĽşıɱŪǃĘƐɱƤŪɱ
supposed to be the place where we a new year and saying, “Lord, may
put aside our divisions. We need 2022 be different. May this be the
to remember we all come equally to year when I draw so close to you.
the site of the cross. We can learn píǊɱƤĸĽƘɱĉĘɱƤĸĘɱǊĘíƐɱQɱǞɱşĽƘĸɱíŔŔɱƤĸĘƘĘɱ
a lot by staring at heaven together. things that I’ve put off. And all the
2
changes I know need to take place in
Is there a prayer that helps my life? May this be the year that
you focus? they happen. May this be the year
A few months ago, I decided to that I change my rhythm of life
pray the Lord’s Prayer many times and prioritize the right things. May
throughout the day, and I have been it be the year that I spend more
so blessed by it. Each time I felt as if time talking about how wonderful
I meant it more deeply. I encouraged our God is rather than all of these
my church to do the same for a week. other issues.” That’s what I love
One of my friends later said he felt as about New Year’s Day.
INSPIRED LIVING
GREETINGS FROM
SMALL-TOWN AMERICA
LEAVENWORTH
WASHINGTON
By CATHERINE MADERA
Acme, Washington
I
t doesn’t matter how many
times I visit: Anticipation
always builds as I descend
Stevens Pass. Racing beside my
car, Icicle Creek seems just as eager
İŪƐɱĽƤƘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƘĽıĸƤɱŪİɱfĘíǃĘşǄŪƐƤĸɂɱ
Washington. I’m among some 2.5
million visitors drawn here each
year. It wasn’t always that way.
QşɱƤĸĘɱǮǶǳǭƘɂɱfĘíǃĘşǄŪƐƤĸɱǄíƘɱ
just another fading timber town in built in phases, visiting Bavaria
the Cascades. Determined to save to ensure authenticity, right down
their community, residents reinvent- to the alpenhorn blown at every
ed it as a Bavarian village, as hardy breakfast. The granddaughter of a
and beautiful as the gentian (enzian pastor, Robin considers the hotel
ĽşɱEĘƐŝíşɓɂɱíɱǄĽŔđǡɱŪǄĘƐɱŪİɱƤĸĘɱŔƍƘɁ a ministry; guests have told her of a
One summer day, I pull up to ɢĸĘíǃĘşŔǊɱƍƐĘƘĘşĊĘɣɱƤĸĘƐĘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱĽşşɱĽƘɱ
fĘíǃĘşǄŪƐƤĸɥƘɱŪŔđĘƘƤɱǊĘíƐɘƐŪƬşđɱ booked a year ahead for the holidays,
lodging: the Enzian Inn. Robin John when the town is transformed.
and her husband, Chris, are general Work begins in early October. By
managers of the hotel, which was ¸ĸíşőƘıĽǃĽşıɂɱđŪǄşƤŪǄşɱfĘíǃĘşɘ
built by her family in the early 1980s. worth is a winter wonderland, with
INGE JOHNSSON/ALAMY
“The banks said no one would ever more than a half million lights—
ĊŪŝĘɱƤŪɱfĘíǃĘşǄŪƐƤĸɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱǄĽşƤĘƐɂɣɱ ǮǯɱŝĽŔĘƘɥɱǄŪƐƤĸɆɱ¸ŪƬƐĽƘƤƘɱǡɱŪĊőɱƤŪɱƤĸĘɱ
£ŪĉĽşɱƐĘĊíŔŔƘɁɱɢ×ĘɱǄĘƐĘɱƤŪŔđɱfĘíǃĘşɘ snow-covered village, searching for
ǄŪƐƤĸɱǄíƘɱşŪƤɱíɱđĘƘƤĽşíƤĽŪşɱĊĽƤǊɁɣ Santa, a nearby reindeer farm and
Undeterred, Robin and her family the Nutcracker Museum. There, some

HOLLY JOLLY (From
left:) The town all lit up;
Robin and Chris run the
Enzian Inn, where guests
hear the alpenhorn every
morning; David Sever-
ance as Father Christmas;
Arlene Wagner, Nut-
cracker Museum director
mann—differ from the

7,000 nutcrackers are on display; American Santa, he says. “It’s about
the star is Karl, a six-foot nutcracker having a bountiful celebration with
carved from a single piece of linden İíŝĽŔǊɂɱşŪƤɱíĉŪƬƤɱƐĘĊĘĽǃĽşıɱıĽİƤƘɁɣɱ
wood by Karl Rappl of Oberammer- David mingled with tourists, posed
RANDY BOVERMAN; JULIE AYNN (FATHER CHRISTMAS)
gau, Germany. Now in her nineties, for photos and handed out tanger-
museum founder Arlene Wagner still ĽşĘƘɱƤŪɱɢıŪŪđɱĉŪǊƘɱíşđɱıĽƐŔƘɁɣɱɢQɱĸíǃĘɱ
comes to work in a Bavarian dirndl. ƤĸŪƬƘíşđƘɱŪİɱŝĘŝŪƐĽĘƘɂɣɱĸĘɱƘíǊƘɂɱ
David Severance caught the spirit ıŪĽşıɱĉíĊőɱƤŪɱĸĽƘɱǃĘƐǊɱǞɱƐƘƤɱđíǊɱíƘɱ
when he moved here after 30 years Father Christmas, when a little girl
íƘɱíɱ«ĘíƤƤŔĘɱƍŪŔĽĊĘɱŪİǞɱĊĘƐɁɱLĽƘɱǄĸĽƤĘɱ ĸƬııĘđɱĸĽŝɱíşđɱƘíĽđɂɱɢQɱŔŪǃĘɱǊŪƬɁɣ
beard prompted an invitation to play It may be 80 degrees when David
Santa for the annual festivities. David and I talk, but the spirit of Christmas,
dove deep for the role, researching ĘƘƍĘĊĽíŔŔǊɱĸĘƐĘɱĽşɱfĘíǃĘşǄŪƐƤĸɂɱĽƘɱ
the history and lore of the holiday for every season.
ǞɱıƬƐĘɁɱ-ƬƐŪƍĘíşɱǃĘƐƘĽŪşƘɛƘƬĊĸɱíƘɱ
Saint Nicholas and Weihnachts- DŪƐɱŝŪƐĘɱŪşɱƤĸĽƘɱƘƤŪƐǊɂɱƘĘĘɱDpQfÝɱ£}}p
See the nutcrackers and hear the alpenhorn at guideposts.org/leavenworth 21

INSPIRED LIVING
Everyday Blessings
Let It Shine
By KATIE BROWN, Los Angeles, California
E
very December growing up, ŪĉǃĽŪƬƘɁɱşđɱƤĸĘƐĘɱǄíƘɱşŪƤĸĽşıɲŪĉǃĽɘ
I was involved in a Christmas ous about Jesus or the story of his birth.
production. One year, my ×ŪƬŔđşɥƤɱĽƤɱĉĘɱǞɱƤƤĽşıɱƤŪɱƘĘĘɱƤĸĘɱ
sisters and I staged The Little children shine in ways they’d never
Drummer BoyɱĽşɱİƐŪşƤɱŪİɱŪƬƐɱǞɱƐĘƍŔíĊĘɁɱ imagined? With my superstar sisters,
Another year, I narrated the church my getting to play the title role of
service reenacting the Nativity scene. the drummer boy was huge for me.
Then there was the time neighbor- I was stunned when our church
hood kids dressed as angels strutted musical director let me, a dyslexic
down our hallway. Yep, I take student, narrate the service.
Christmas pageants seriously. Still, So I followed in those footsteps. The
it was not until I was asked often-overlooked girl was thrilled to
to lead the children’s be the narrator, with the most
Christmas Eve pageant lines. The nonathletic boy stood
for our church that the taller as Joseph because that
importance of this made him the captain of our
ritual became clear. team. My shy daughter,
Who would work Meredith, agreed to play
ĉĘƘƤɱǄĸĘƐĘɈɱQɲƤǊƍĘɘ the star that opened and
ĊíƘƤɱíƤɱǞɱƐƘƤɂɱĉƬƤɲđŪɘ closed the story. She was
ing that seemed so shaking as we suited her
up, but leading the
cast down the aisles,
CRAFT she beamed. All
WITH KATIE our stars shone
Check out Katie’s brightly that
COURTESY KATIE BROWN
creative DIY gift- night while

wrapping ideas at being seen
guideposts.org in a whole
/giftwrap new
light.

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INSPIRED LIVING
EVERYDAY
GREATNESS
Jen Owens
Crafting opportunities for
refugee and immigrant
women to thrive in America
By ELENA TAFONE, Editor
WHO SHE IS Jen asked if anyone could

Owens is the founder host the new arrivals
of Forai, a faith-based İŪƐɱƤĸĘĽƐɱǞɱƐƘƤɱ¸ĸíşőƘɘ
St. Louis, Missouri, giving. Jen and her
şŪşɱƍƐŪǞɱƤɱǄĽƤĸɱíɱƬşĽƏƬĘɱ family volunteered.
way of helping refugee One of the Bhutanese
and immigrant women families—a couple and
ǞɱşđɱƤĸĘĽƐɱİŪŪƤĽşıɁɱQşɱ their daughter—spoke
2008, Jen and her family English at the dinner.
hosted two Bhutanese But the other, a widow ĽƤɱƤŪɱŝǊɱŝĽşđɁɱQɱƘƍĘşƤɱíɱ
families for Thanksgiv- and her two young lot of time praying on it.
ing. Members of an children, did not. After Then the idea came to
ethnic minority, they the meal, Jen found ŝĘɁɣɱ×ĸíƤɱĽİɱbĘşɱĊŪƬŔđɱ
ĸíđɱǡɱĘđɱƍĘƐƘĘĊƬƤĽŪşɱ herself worrying about bring women together
in Bhutan and spent the single mom. How to craft items by hand?
16 years in refugee would she be able to
camps in Nepal. Finally provide for her children WHAT SHE DOES
granted asylum in the with no connections, Jen started Forai—
United States, they’d no job, no child care? Friends of Refugees and
COURTESY JEN OWENS
arrived in St. Louis just Was there any way Jen QŝŝĽıƐíşƤƘɛíŔŝŪƘƤɱ
two weeks earlier. ĊŪƬŔđɱĸĘŔƍɈɱɢQɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱ a year after that fateful
Jen’s church worked ƏƬĽƤɱƤĸĽşőĽşıɱíĉŪƬƤɱĽƤɂɣɱ ¸ĸíşőƘıĽǃĽşıɁɱ¸ĸĘɲŪƐɘ
with a local resettle- bĘşɱƘíǊƘɁɱɢQƤɱǄíƘɱíƘɱĽİɱ ganization employs
ment group. The group the Lord kept bringing refugee and immigrant

CONNECTION Forai isn’t Although jewelrymak-
just about creating jobs but ing can be easily taught,
about building a community sewing and embroidery
for those far from home.
ƐĘƏƬĽƐĘɱŝŪƐĘɱĽşƤĘşƘĽǃĘɱ
instruction. Artisans
WHY SHE DOES IT attend Forai’s sewing
Jen knows what it’s like workshop before join-
to be far from every- ing the team.
ƤĸĽşıɱİíŝĽŔĽíƐɁɱDŪƐɱǞɱǃĘɱ The work is part-time
years, she and her and can be done from
family lived in Russia, ĸŪŝĘɁɱLŪƬƐƘɱíƐĘɲǡɱĘǉɘ
doing missionary work. ible, but the women
Her experience gave her must commit to a mini-
empathy for those ŝƬŝɱŪİɱǞɱǃĘɱĸŪƬƐƘɱíɱ
living in a new country, week. Those who
struggling to adapt. ıŪɱŪşɱƤŪɱİƬŔŔɘƤĽŝĘɲĘŝɘ
Jen loves helping ployment give up their
these women reach spots to women in
ƤĸĘĽƐɱİƬŔŔɱƍŪƤĘşƤĽíŔɁɱɢQɱ greater need. But Forai
enjoy watching them is more than the goods
ıƐŪǄɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíǊƘɁɱɢ-ƘƍĘɘ ĽƤɱƍƐŪđƬĊĘƘɁɱQƤɥƘɱíŔƘŪɱ
cially as they grow in íĉŪƬƤɱǞɱşđĽşıɱĊŪŝŝƬɘ
ĊŪşǞɱđĘşĊĘɁɣɱ¸íőĘɱrĽşıɱ nity in a new country.
Lam Lun, the nonprof-
it’s assistant sewing HOW YOU CAN DO IT
women who have been coordinator from 2018 Want to support
resettled in St. Louis to 2020. “Forai gave Forai’s artisans? Their
and might not have the ŝĘɱƤĸĘɱĊŪşǞɱđĘşĊĘɱƤŪɱ jewelry and accessories,
education or language begin managing my including baby bibs
ƘőĽŔŔƘɱşĘĊĘƘƘíƐǊɱƤŪɱǞɱşđɱ ŪǄşɱƘƬƘĸĽɱĉƬƘĽşĘƘƘɂɣɱ and onesies, make
a job when they arrive. Ning says. lovely Christmas gifts.
Forai provides them Visit forai.org to shop,
ǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱƤƐíĽşĽşıɂɲŝíɘ HOW SHE DOES IT đŪşíƤĘɱŪƐɱǞɱşđɱíɱƘƤŪƐĘɱ
terials and resources Forai works with 8 to that carries Forai
they need to create 12 refugee and immi- ƍƐŪđƬĊƤƘɁɱQİɱǊŪƬɱŔĽǃĘɱĽşɱ
handcrafted jewelry, grant women at a time. the St. Louis area, you
clothing and accesso- They are divided into can also volunteer to
ries, which are sold two artisan teams— serve as a sewing,
on the Forai website or the Sewing Project and jewelry design or ESL
by retail partners. the Jewelry Project. mentor.
INSPIRED LIVING
Verses to Live By
A New Beginning
By RICK HAMLIN, Contributing Editor
Truth to tell, I’ve never made a New But they who wait for the Lord shall
Year’s resolution—a good thing renew their strength; they shall
too, because I suspect I’d never make mount up with wings like eagles; they
ĽƤɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱŝŪşƤĸɁɱ×ĸíƤɱ shall run and not be weary; they
I do believe in is giving myself a new shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)
ƘƤíƐƤɁɱ«ŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱǊŪƬɱĊíşɱđŪɱíıíĽşɱ There’s no reason we can’t grow
and again, as you seek new goals and in amazing ways, but it all begins
ıƐŪǄɱĽşɱİíĽƤĸɁɱfĽőĘɱƤĸĽƘɁ íƤɱƤĸĘɱƘŪƬƐĊĘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƘƬĊĊĘƘƘɱŪİɱíşǊɱ
şĘǄɱƍƐŪŎĘĊƤɱQɥǃĘɱĘǃĘƐɱƤíĊőŔĘđɱĸíƘɱđĘɘ
Opening their treasure chests, pended on my waiting for the
they offered him gifts of gold, frank- fŪƐđɛƘĘĘőɱĽşıɲƤĸíƤɱĽşşĘƐɱƘƤƐĘşıƤĸɱ
incense and myrrh. And having ǞɱƐƘƤɁɱ¸ĸíƤɱĸĘŔƍƘɱŝĘɱıĘƤɱƤĸĘɱƐĘƘƤɱ
been warned in a dream not to ŪİɱŝǊɱƍƐĽŪƐĽƤĽĘƘɱƘƤƐíĽıĸƤɁ
return to Herod, they left for their
own country by another road. Create in me a clean heart, O God,
(Matthew 2:11–12) and put a new and
Not for nothing do right spirit within
we call the visit of the me. (Psalm 51:10)
Magi to the Christ ¸ĸĘɱ ƘíŔŝƘɱǄĘƐĘɱǄƐĽƤɘ
Child by a special ten thousands of
şíŝĘɃɱƤĸĘɱ-ƍĽƍĸíşǊɁɱ years ago, but their
It was a profound verses can speak to
revelation for them, ŪƬƐɱŝŪƘƤɱĊŪşƤĘŝƍŪɘ
íɱşĘǄɱƘƤíƐƤɁɱİƤĘƐɘ ƐíƐǊɱşĘĘđƘɁɱ×ĸĘşɱ
ward they returned QɥŝɱİĘĘŔĽşıɱŪǃĘƐɘ
to their country by a ǄĸĘŔŝĘđɱĉǊɱíɱƤŪɘđŪɱ
şĘǄɱƐŪƬƤĘɁɱQɱƤĸĽşőɱ list that seems as if
ƤĸíƤɱƘíǊƘɱíɱŔŪƤɁɱİƤĘƐɱ it will never get
any epiphany, you done, I hold fast to
KATIE HOGIN
ĊíşɥƤɱıŪɱĉíĊőɱƤŪɱđŪɘ ƤĸĽƘɱǃĘƐƘĘɁɱɱƐĘŝĽşđɘ
ing things the same er that every day is
ŪŔđɱǄíǊɁ íɱşĘǄɱĉĘıĽşşĽşıɁɱɱ
26 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022 Read more from Rick at guideposts.org/rickhamlin

INSPIRED LIVING
From
our
Guideposts
community
Smile!
Merry, Merry
My sister-in-law,
Linda, spreading
Christmas joy!
—Alisa Bair
Christmas Eve
Two of the greatest
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: COURTESY ALISA BAIR, MONICA LESTER, LAURA SABO, JONI ZECH
gifts I’ve ever been

given are my dogs,
Alex and Rory.
—Monica Lester
Miss You
My dad, gone this
year, was the best
Opa to my kids.
—Laura Sabo
Play! What’s more fun than watching

my kids make snow angels? —Joni Zech
Who makes you smile? Send us a photo at submissions@guideposts.org 27

INSPIRED LIVING
Keeping the Faith

A Spiritual Winter
By TY’ANN BROWN, Vice President, Ministries
I
’m not a fan of winter. There are “hot.” If you were somewhere in the
things I appreciate: the holidays, vicinity, you were “lukewarm.”
cozying up with a mug of hot tea, şđɱǄĸĘşɱǊŪƬɱǄĘƐĘɱşŪǄĸĘƐĘɱşĘíƐɈɱ
the beauty of a blanket of snow “Cold.” I felt bewildered whenever I
covering the ground. Still, I get sad was “cold.” The clues didn’t add up;
when the days get shorter and the nothing made sense. Then I’d realize
darkness of the season sets in. that if I kept searching and listening,
We will experience more than one QɥđɱǞɱşđɱǄĸíƤɱQɱǄíƘɱŔŪŪőĽşıɱİŪƐɁɱ«íŝĘɱ
spiritual winter in our lives, when we ǄĽƤĸɱǞɱşđĽşıɱǊŪƬƐɱǄíǊɱĉíĊőɱƤŪɱEŪđɁɱ
feel we are stumbling around in the No matter how lost you feel right
dark, alone, disconnected from now, keep listening for him.
God. It’s inevitable. Maybe ÝŪƬƐɱİíĽƤĸɱǄĽŔŔɱǡɱŪƬƐĽƘĸɱíıíĽşɁ
you’ve lost a job or a loved These bleak seasons are not
one. Maybe a blizzard of bad only inevitable but neces-
feelings has enveloped you. ƘíƐǊɁɱ¸ĸĘɱǡɱŪǄĘƐƘɱŪİɱƘƍƐĽşıɱ
This is a painful spot to would not blossom
be in. But remember the without what goes on
childhood game of Hot and underground, unseen, all
Cold, in which someone winter. For my faith to
hides an item and you grow stronger, I too
ĸíǃĘɱƤŪɱǞɱşđɱĽƤɈɱ×ĸĘşɱ need these periods
you got really close, the ŪİɱƐĘǡɱĘĊƤĽŪşɁ
other person would say I read a lot in the
winter. This verse
from the Gospel of
PRAY WITH TY’ANN John always jumps
on Facebook Live! out at me: “The
Go to facebook.com light shines in the
/ourprayer the first darkness, and
Wednesday of every the darkness did not
TODD PLITT
month at noon ET. overcome it.” Shine on

this winter!

INSPIRED LIVING
Prayer Power
}İİɱƤŪɱíɱEŪŪđɱ«ƤíƐƤ
By BOB HOSTETLER, Contributing Editor
T
he past few years have been íɱƍŔíĊĘɱǄĸĘƐĘɱǊŪƬɱǄŪşɥƤɱĉĘɱĽşƤĘƐɘ
ǞɱŔŔĘđɱǄĽƤĸɱĊĸíşıĘɱİŪƐɱŝǊɱǄĽİĘɱ ƐƬƍƤĘđɱíşđɱǄĸĘƐĘɱǊŪƬɱĊíşɱƘƍĘíőɱ
íşđɱŝĘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƘíŔĘɱŪİɱŪƬƐɱŔŪşıɘ İƐĘĘŔǊɱĽİɱǊŪƬɱƍƐíǊɱíŔŪƬđɁɱ%ŪşɥƤɱǄŪƐƐǊɱ
ƤĽŝĘɱĸŪŝĘɁɱɱŝŪǃĘɱíĊƐŪƘƘɱƤĸĘɱĊŪƬşɘ íĉŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱƤĽŝĘɂɱíşđɱđŪşɥƤɱİŪƐĊĘɱ
ƤƐǊɁɱ«ĘƤƤŔĽşıɱĽşƤŪɱíɱşĘǄɱĸŪŝĘɱĽşɱíɱ ǊŪƬƐƘĘŔİɱƤŪɱƘƍĘşđɱíɱƘĘƤɱíŝŪƬşƤɱŪİɱ
şĘǄɱĊŔĽŝíƤĘɱíşđɱĊŪŝŝƬşĽƤǊɂɱíŔŪşıɱ ƤĽŝĘɁɱDŪĊƬƘɱŪşɱĉĘĽşıɱĽşɱEŪđɥƘɱ
ǄĽƤĸɱşĘǄɱŎŪĉƘɱíşđɂɱŪİɱĊŪƬƐƘĘɂɱƘŪŝĘɱ ƍƐĘƘĘşĊĘɁɱ«ƤíƐƤɱĉǊɱıƐĘĘƤĽşıɱĸĽŝɱíƘɱ
ƍíşđĘŝĽĊɘƐĘŔíƤĘđɱíđŎƬƘƤŝĘşƤƘɁ ǊŪƬɱǄŪƬŔđɱíɱİƐĽĘşđɱɒɢEŪŪđɱŝŪƐşĽşıɂɱ
¸ĽŝĘƘɱŔĽőĘɱƤĸĘƘĘɱíƐĘɱĊĸíŔŔĘşıĽşıɂɱ EŪđɣɱǄŪƐőƘɓɁɱ¸ĸĘşɱƤĸíşőɱĸĽŝɱİŪƐɱ
ĉƬƤɱƤĸĘǊɱíŔƘŪɱƍƐĘƘĘşƤɱíşɱŪƍƍŪƐƤƬşĽƤǊɱ ƤĸĘɱĉŔĘƘƘĽşıƘɱĽşɱǊŪƬƐɱŔĽİĘɁ
İŪƐɱşĘǄɱĉĘıĽşşĽşıƘɂɱíƘɱđŪɱđǃĘşƤɂɱ
ĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱíşđɱƤĸĘɱrĘǄɱÝĘíƐɁɱQİɱǄĘɥƐĘɱ Step 2
íŔĘƐƤɱíşđɱĽşƤĘşƤĽŪşíŔɂɱƤĸŪƘĘɱƤƐíşƘĽɘ ¸íőĘɱƤĽŝĘɱƤŪɱŔĽƘƤĘşɱƤŪɱEŪđɂɱíƘɱǊŪƬɱ
ƤĽŪşƘɱĊíşɱŪƍĘşɱƤĸĘɱđŪŪƐɱİŪƐɱƬƘɱƤŪɱƘƤíƐƤɱ ǄŪƬŔđɱƤŪɱíşǊɱİƐĽĘşđɁɱɱƘĽŝƍŔĘɱǄíǊɱƤŪɱ
ƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱşĘǄɱŪƐɱ đŪɱƤĸíƤɱĽƘɱĉǊɱƐĘíđĽşıɱ
ƐĘƘƬŝĘɱƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱ ĸĽƘɱ×ŪƐđɁɱ«ƤíƐƤĽşıɱ
ƤĸíƤɱĸíƘɱŔíƍƘĘđɂɱƘƬĊĸɱ ǄĽƤĸɱ ƘíŔŝɱǮɂɱƐĘíđɱ
íƘɱíɱđíĽŔǊɱƍƐíǊĘƐɱ ŪşĘɱƍƘíŔŝɱíɱđíǊɁɱ
ĸíĉĽƤɁɱLĘƐĘɱíƐĘɱƘĽǉɱ ƬƤɛíşđɱƤĸĽƘɱĽƘɱƤĸĘɱ
ƘƤĘƍƘɱƤĸíƤɱĊíşɱĸĘŔƍɱ ĽŝƍŪƐƤíşƤɱƍíƐƤɛ
íşǊŪşĘɂɱĽşɱíşǊɱ đŪşɥƤɱŎƬƘƤɱƐĘíđɱíƘɱíɱ
ƘĘíƘŪşɂɱƘƤíƐƤɱĘǃĘƐǊɱ ŝĘşƤíŔɱĘǉĘƐĊĽƘĘɁɱ
đíǊɱǄĽƤĸɱƍƐíǊĘƐɁ £ĘíđɱƘŔŪǄŔǊɂɱƍĘƐĸíƍƘɱ
ĘǃĘşɱŪƬƤɱŔŪƬđɂɱíşđɱ
Step 1 ƍíƬƘĘɱŪĊĊíƘĽŪşíŔŔǊɱƤŪɱ
ƘɱƘŪŪşɱíƘɱƍŪƘƘĽĉŔĘɱ ƐĘǡɱĘĊƤɱŪşɱǄĸíƤɱEŪđɱ
íİƤĘƐɱǄíőĽşıɱɒĽƤɥƘɱ ĽƘɱƘíǊĽşıɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱ
ŪőíǊɱƤŪɱƍŪƬƐɱíɱĊƬƍɱŪİɱ ƤĸŪƘĘɱǄŪƐđƘɱíĉŪƬƤɱ
PATRICK GRAY
ĊŪİİĘĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɓɂɱǞɱşđɱíɱ ǊŪƬɂɱǊŪƬƐɱŔĽİĘɱŪƐɱ
ƏƬĽĘƤɱƍŔíĊĘɱƤŪɱĉĘɱ ƤĸĘɱĘǃĘşƤƘɱŪİɱǊŪƬƐɱ
íŔŪşĘɱǄĽƤĸɱEŪđɁɱ ĽĊőɱ ƬƍĊŪŝĽşıɱđíǊɁ

Step 3
Answered
Prayers
rĘǉƤɂɱƤĸĽşőɱíĉŪƬƤɱǄĸíƤɱŔĽĘƘɱíĸĘíđɱĽşɱ
ƤĸĘɱĊŪŝĽşıɱđíǊɁɱQƘɱƤĸĘƐĘɱƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱ
ǊŪƬɥƐĘɱǄŪƐƐĽĘđɱíĉŪƬƤɈɱɱƤĘŝƍƤíƤĽŪşɱ
ƤŪɱİíĊĘɈɱɱŝŪŝĘşƤɱǊŪƬɥŔŔɱşĘĘđɱEŪđɥƘɱ
¸ĸíşőɱǊŪƬɂɱfŪƐđɂɱİŪƐɱ
ĸĘŔƍɈɱƘőɱĸĽƘɱĸĘŔƍɱİŪƐɱíşǊƤĸĽşıɱíşđɱ ĉŔĘƘƘĽşıɱŝǊɱĉƐŪƤĸĘƐɱíşđɱ
ĘǃĘƐǊƤĸĽşıɱƤĸíƤɱƤĸĘɱđíǊɱŝíǊɱĉƐĽşıɁ ĸĽƘɱǄĽİĘɱǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱıĽİƤɱŪİɱ
ƍƐĘışíşĊǊɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱĸíđɱĉĘĘşɱ
Step 4 ıŪĽşıɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱİĘƐƤĽŔĽƤǊɱ
ɱŝƬƘĽĊɱíƍƍɱŪƐɱ%ɱĊíşɱĉĘɱíɱıƐĘíƤɱíĽđɱ ƤƐĘíƤŝĘşƤƘɱİŪƐɱǊĘíƐƘɁ
ƤŪɱƍƐíǊĘƐɂɱĘƘƍĘĊĽíŔŔǊɱǄĽƤĸɱíɱƘŪşıɱ
—ARLINDA
ƤĸíƤɱđƐíǄƘɱǊŪƬɱĽşƤŪɱƤĸĘɱƍƐĘƘĘşĊĘɱŪİɱ
EŪđɁɱɒ¸ƐǊɱŪşĘɱƤĸíƤɥƘɱíɱƍƐíǊĘƐɂɱƘƬĊĸɱíƘɱ
ɢEƐĘíƤɱQƘɱ¸ĸǊɱDíĽƤĸİƬŔşĘƘƘɣɱŪƐɱɢ£ĘĊőɘ
ƐíĽƘĘɱEŪđɱİŪƐɱíşɱŔɘşŪşɱ
ŔĘƘƘɱfŪǃĘɁɣɓɱfĽƘƤĘşĽşıɱƤŪɱíɱƍŪǄĘƐİƬŔɱ çŪŪŝɱŝĘĘƤĽşıɱǊĘƘƤĘƐđíǊɆ
ǄŪƐƘĸĽƍɱƘŪşıɱíŔƘŪɱőĘĘƍƘɱƤĸĘɱƘƍĽƐĽƤɱŪİɱ —MARI
ƍƐíǊĘƐɱǄĽƤĸɱǊŪƬɱđƬƐĽşıɱƤĸĘɱđíǊɁ
¸ĸíşőɱǊŪƬɂɱEŪđɂɱİŪƐɱ
Step 5 ĸĘíŔĽşıɱŝǊɱƤƬƐĉƬŔĘşƤɱ
ŪşĊŔƬđĘɱǄĽƤĸɱŝŪƐĘɱƍƐíǊĘƐƘɱŪİɱƤĸíşőƘɁɱ ƐĘŔíƤĽŪşƘĸĽƍɱǄĽƤĸɱŝǊɱ
ƘőɱİŪƐɱƤĸĘɱıƐíĊĘɱƤŪɱƍƐíǊɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɘ ĉŪƘƘɁɱQƤɱĽƘɱŝƬĊĸɱŝŪƐĘɱ
ŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱđíǊɁɱ×ĸĘşɱǊŪƬɥƐĘɱĘşıíıĘđɱĽşɱ
ƤíƘőƘɱƤĸíƤɱđŪşɥƤɱƐĘƏƬĽƐĘɱǊŪƬƐɱİƬŔŔɱ
ƍĘíĊĘİƬŔɁɱɱ—JULIET
ĊŪşĊĘşƤƐíƤĽŪşɂɱƬƘĘɱƤĸŪƘĘɱŪƍƍŪƐƤƬşĽɘ EŪđɱĸĘíƐđɱǊŪƬƐɱƍƐíǊĘƐƘɂɱ
ƤĽĘƘɱƤŪɱƤíŔőɱƘĽŔĘşƤŔǊɱƤŪɱEŪđɁɱ«ĸíƐĘɱǄĽƤĸɱ
ĸĽŝɱíşǊƤĸĽşıɱƤĸíƤɱĊŪŝĘƘɱƤŪɱŝĽşđɁɱ íşđɱƤĸĘɱƘƤŪƐŝɱƍíƘƘĘđɱ
ƐíĊƤĽĊĘɱƤĸĽƘɱĊŪşƘĽƘƤĘşƤŔǊɂɱíşđɱǊŪƬɥŔŔɱ ŪǃĘƐɱƬƘɁɱQɱǄíƘɱƘíİĘɱíşđɱ
ĉĘɱƘƬƐƍƐĽƘĘđɱĸŪǄɱĘíƘǊɱĽƤɱĽƘɱƤŪɱĊŪşɘ ƍƐŪƤĘĊƤĘđɱǄíŔőĽşıɱ
ƤĽşƬĘɱĽşɱƍƐíǊĘƐɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱđíǊɱ ĉíĊőɱíşđɱİŪƐƤĸɱƤŪɱǄŪƐőɁɱ
íşđɱɢőĘĘƍɱĽşɱƘƤĘƍɱǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱ«ƍĽƐĽƤɂɣɱíƘɱ QɥŝɱƘŪɱıƐíƤĘİƬŔɆ —M.
íƬŔɱƍƬƤɱĽƤɱɒEíŔíƤĽíşƘɱǲɃǯǲɓɁ
¸ĸíşőɱǊŪƬɱİŪƐɱĸĘŔƍĽşıɱ
Step 6 ŝǊɱđíƬıĸƤĘƐɱĉĘɱŝŪƐĘɱ
ĉŪǃĘɱíŔŔɂɱŝíőĘɱƍƐíǊĘƐɱíɱĸíĉĽƤɁɱfĘƤɱ
şŪƤĸĽşıɱƍƬƘĸɱíƘĽđĘɱǊŪƬƐɱđíĽŔǊɱƤĽŝĘɱ ĊŪşǞɱđĘşƤɁɱɱ—ALEX
ǄĽƤĸɱEŪđɁɱÝŪƬɥŔŔɱǞɱşđɱǊŪƬƐɱĸíĉĽƤɱƘĘƤƘɱ
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ƤĸĘɱƤŪşĘɱİŪƐɱĘíĊĸɱđíǊɱíşđɱĉĘĊŪŝĘƘɱ your answered prayer at guideposts
íɱƘƍĽƐĽƤƬíŔɱŔĽİĘŔĽşĘɁɱɱŔĽİĘŔĽşĘɱƤĸíƤɱ .org/answeredprayers
ǄĽŔŔɱƐĘŔĘíƘĘɱíşđɱĽşĊƐĘíƘĘɱƤĸĘɱ«ƍĽƐĽƤɥƘɱ
ŔĘíđĽşıɱíşđɱİƐƬĽƤɱĽşɱǊŪƬƐɱŔĽİĘɁɱɱ
Get more prayer tips from Bob at guideposts.org/bobhostetler G U I D E P O S T S .O R G 31

INSPIRED LIVING
Holy Trinity
Church,
Antarctica
This Russian Orthodox
church on remote King
George Island holds
30 people. Holy Trinity
is staffed by two volun-
teer priests, who serve
the spiritual needs of
researchers at the near-
by Russian base, as well
as the bases for Chile,
Poland and Korea. Con-
secrated in 2004, the
church was constructed
DAVID LICHTNEKER/ALAMY
of pine in Siberia, then
dismantled and shipped
to Antarctica. Unlike
most structures in the
area, which are built
low, Holy Trinity stands
tall against the barren
landscape. In a place
with only 810 hours of
sunshine per year and
temperatures dipping
below -10°F, Holy Trinity
reminds us that the
warmth of God’s love
can reach anywhere.
KAYLIN KAUPISH, Editor
DESTINATION INSPIRATION
33
GUIDEPOSTS .ORG
INSPIRED LIVING
POSITIVE THINKER
Erin Napier
HGTV’S HOME TOWN
STAR. WIFE. MOM.
Real-life heroes My mom
and my friend Lisa:
They fostered creativity
in their children in all
the ways I hope to!
Go-to place to pray
Bed, before falling
asleep. Before the
babies, the church
altar late at night.
A surprising
detail about you
I’m an extreme
introvert.
Favorite Bible
verse Matthew
6:25–26. I am a
worrier, and it gives
me peace if I can really
focus on those verses
during stressful times.
What you do for your
spiritual well-being
I write down the good
things that happen
every day.
For more on this story, see
FAMILY ROOM
Q&A by Celeste McCauley.
Find a longer version at
LARSEN&TALBERT
guideposts.org/erinnapier
34
Mysterious Ways
More Than Coincidence
M
y husband, Russ, and I ĊŪǃĘƐĘđɱíɱĊíƘƤɘĽƐŪşɱĊŪíƤɱƤƐĘĘɱƤĸíƤɱƬƘĘđɱ
đƐŪǃĘɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱŪƬƐɲşĘĽıĸɘ ƤŪɱƘƤíşđɱĽşɱŪƬƐɱİŪǊĘƐɁɱɱđĘĊŪƐíƤĽǃĘɱ
borhood, the place we’d đĽƘĸɱŪƬƐɱƘŪşɱĸíđɱıĽǃĘşɱŝĘɂɱĉŔíĊőĘşĘđɱ
called home for 28 years. ĉƬƤɱǄĸŪŔĘɁɱĽƤƘɱíşđɱƍĽĘĊĘƘɱŪİɱŪƬƐɱŔĽİĘɁ
¸ĸĘɱ«ĽĘƐƐíɱrĘǃíđíɱİŪŪƤĸĽŔŔƘɂɱŪşĊĘɱ Lord, how will we survive this? I
ƤĸĽĊőɱǄĽƤĸɱƤŪǄĘƐĽşıɱƍĽşĘƘɂɱǄĘƐĘɲƬşƐĘĊɘ wondered. How will we go on? It felt as
ŪışĽǔíĉŔĘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱıƐŪƬşđɱǄíƘɱĊŪǃĘƐĘđɱ ĽİɱŪƬƐɱŔĽǃĘƘɱĸíđɱĉĘĘşɱǄĽƍĘđɱŪƬƤɁ
ǄĽƤĸɱíɱĸĘíǃǊɱŔíǊĘƐɱŪİɱíƘĸɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƤƐĘĘƘɱ ×ĘɱĊíŔŔĘđɱĽƤɱƏƬĽƤƘɱĽşɱŔíƤĘɱíİƤĘƐşŪŪşɁɱ
ƤĸíƤɱƐĘŝíĽşĘđɱǄĘƐĘɱĊĸíƐƐĘđɱƘƤƬŝƍƘɁ £ƬƘƘɱŔŪíđĘđɱǄĸíƤɱǄĘɥđɱİŪƬşđɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱ
¸ǄŪɱǄĘĘőƘɱĘíƐŔĽĘƐɂɱǄĘɥđɱıŪƤƤĘşɱíşɱ ĊíƐɁɱ¸ĸĘɱĉƐĘĘǔĘɱƍĽĊőĘđɱƬƍɂɱƘǄĽƐŔĽşıɱ
ĘíƐŔǊɘŝŪƐşĽşıɱĊíŔŔɱƤĘŔŔĽşıɱƬƘɱƤŪɱĘǃíĊɘ íƘĸɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱíĽƐɁɱɢfĘƤɥƘɱıŪɂɣɱĸĘɱƘíĽđɁ
ƬíƤĘɱĽŝŝĘđĽíƤĘŔǊɁɱ¸ĸĘɱǄĽŔđǞɱƐĘɱƤĘíƐɘ QɱƤƬƐşĘđɱƤŪɱıĘƤɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱĊíƐɁɱ¸ĸíƤɥƘɱ
ĽşıɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱrŪƐƤĸĘƐşɱíŔĽİŪƐşĽíɱĸíđɱ ǄĸĘşɱQɱşŪƤĽĊĘđɱƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱƘƤƬĊőɱƤŪɱŝǊɱ
spread and was headed our way. ĉŪŪƤɁɱɱƘĊƐíƍɱŪİɱƍíƍĘƐɂɱƘŝƬđıĘđɱǄĽƤĸɱ
×ĘɥđɱŎƬŝƍĘđɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱĊíƐɱǄĽƤĸɱŪƬƐɱ ƘŪŪƤɁɱQɱƍĽĊőĘđɱĽƤɱƬƍɁɱQƤƘɱĘđıĘƘɱǄĘƐĘɱ
ĊíƤƘɱíşđɱíɱİĘǄɱĉĘŔŪşıĽşıƘɁɱDŪƐɱđíǊƘɂɱ ƘĽşıĘđɂɱǊĘƤɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐđƘɱǄĘƐĘɱƘƬƐƍƐĽƘɘ
we’d bounced from hotel to hotel, ĽşıŔǊɱŔĘıĽĉŔĘɃɱɢQİɱŔĽİĘɱƘĘĘŝƘɱđĽİǞɱĊƬŔƤɂɱ
đĘƘƍĘƐíƤĘɱİŪƐɱşĘǄƘɁɱ×ĸíƤɱǞɱşíŔŔǊɱ QɱƍíƬƘĘɱíşđɱƐĘǡɱĘĊƤɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱĉŔĘƘƘĽşıɱ
came wasn’t good. Our house had ƘŪŝĘƤĽŝĘƘɱĸĽđđĘşɱǄĽƤĸĽşɱĘǃĘƐǊɱ
ĉĘĘşɱƐĽıĸƤɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐĘɥƘɱƍíƤĸɁ ĊĽƐĊƬŝƘƤíşĊĘɁɱ×ĽƤĸɱƐĘşĘǄĘđɱİíĽƤĸɱ
rŪǄɱǄĘɥđɱĉĘĘşɱıĽǃĘşɲƍĘƐŝĽƘƘĽŪşɱ íşđɱĊŪƬƐíıĘɂɱQɱĉĘıĽşɱíıíĽşɁɣ
to return. Russ and I brought shovels, Words that must have come from
ǄŪƐőɱĉŪŪƤƘɂɱrǶǲɱŝíƘőƘɱíşđɱıŔŪǃĘƘɁɱ ŪşĘɱŪİɱŝǊɱĉŪŪőƘɂɱíɱƍíƘƘíıĘɱQɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱ
×ĘɥđɱƘíŔǃíıĘɱíşǊƤĸĽşıɱǄĘɱĊŪƬŔđɁ ƐĘĊíŔŔɱĉƬƤɱşŪǄɱƘíĽđɱĘǃĘƐǊƤĸĽşıɱQɱ
×ĘɱđƐŪǃĘɱƘŔŪǄŔǊɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱƤĸĘɱíƍŪĊɘ needed to hear. Words that rose from
íŔǊƍƤĽĊɱđĘƘŪŔíƤĽŪşɂɱǄĸĘƐĘɱĊĸĽŝşĘǊƘɱ the ashes.
ŝíƐőĘđɱǄĸĘƐĘɱĸŪŝĘƘɱŪşĊĘɱƘƤŪŪđɁɱQɱ QɱİƐíŝĘđɱƤĸíƤɱƘĊƐíƍɱŪİɱƍíƍĘƐɁɱQɱőĘƍƤɱ
ǄíƘşɥƤɱƍƐĘƍíƐĘđɱİŪƐɱǄĸíƤɱíǄíĽƤĘđɱƬƘɁɱ ĽƤɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱşĽıĸƤƘƤíşđɱĽşɱĘǃĘƐǊɱĸŪƤĘŔɱ
}ƬƐɱĸŪƬƘĘɱǄíƘɱşŪƤĸĽşıɱĉƬƤɱƐƬĉĉŔĘɁɱ íşđɱŝŪƤĘŔɱǄĘɱƘƤíǊĘđɱĽşɱŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘɱ
pĘŝĘşƤŪƘɂɱƍĸŪƤŪƘɂɱĸĘĽƐŔŪŪŝƘɂɱŝǊɱ ĊŪŝĽşıɱŝŪşƤĸƘɁɱQƤɱşŪǄɱƘĽƤƘɱĽşɱíɱƍŔíĊĘɱ
ƍƐĘĊĽŪƬƘɱĊŪŔŔĘĊƤĽŪşɱŪİɱĽşƘƍĽƐíƤĽŪşíŔɱ ŪİɱĸŪşŪƐɱĽşɱŪƬƐɱşĘǄɱĸŪŝĘɂɱíɱƐĘŝĽşđɘ
ĉŪŪőƘɛíŔŔɱıŪşĘɁ ĘƐɱƤĸíƤɱǄĘɱĊíşɱĉĘıĽşɱíıíĽşɁ
QɱǄĽƍĘđɱíǄíǊɱƤĘíƐƘɱíƘɱǄĘɱđƬıɱ LORI KENNEDY
ƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱƤĸĘɱíƘĸɱíşđɱđĘĉƐĽƘɁɱ×ĘɲƬşɘ Chico, California
Want more miracles? Get Mysterious Ways magazine at guideposts.org/mw 35

36
LARSEN&TALBERT
COVER STORY
The Gift That

Changed the World
Sometimes the most meaningful present
comes in the humblest package
By KRISTIN CHENOWETH, New York, New York
G
loria Vanderbilt jeans. a combination of Julie Andrews and
The year I was 16, that’s Carol Burnett. I’d sung solos in church.
all I wanted for Christmas. Even sang the song “Four Feet Eleven”
I dreamed of a gorgeously at a national church convention. The
wrapped box waiting for me under lyrics were meant for me: “I’m only
the tree with the only present that four feet eleven, but I’m going to heav-
mattered. Why? Well, I guess I was en….” My exact height (still is).
acting like a typical teenager, a little My parents wanted to make my old-
caught up in fashion and image. I er brother, Mark, and me happy, but
imagined all the heads that would they also knew what was best for us.
turn as I walked down the halls Like when Mark had his heart set on a
of my Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, set of big tires for his truck one Christ-
high school in my sleek new mas…and what did he get? Contacts.
Vanderbilts. I wasn’t a mean For his eyes. What a disappointment.
girl or anything. In fact, I was a Ah, contacts. It became a kind of joke
pretty good kid. But something between the two of us when some-
about those jeans got ahold of thing didn’t go our way.
my imagination and wouldn’t That I ended up being raised by
let go. I had to have them! Mom and Dad was an extraordinary
Broken Arrow was a relatively gift in itself, a blessing I thank God for
small town back then, not far
from Tulsa, the big city as far as IN THE SPIRIT Tony and Emmy Award–
we were concerned. I planned winning actress and singer Kristin at our
to be a singer, dancer and actor, exclusive photo shoot
COVER STORY
every day of my life. I was adopted as In the summers, I’d go out west to
an infant. My birth mom, who wasn’t Hinton—even smaller than Broken
prepared to raise a child, did the brav- Arrow—and stay with our grandpar-
est and most generous thing by giving ents for a couple weeks. They were real
me up. Mom happened to be in the ǞɱǉƤƬƐĘƘɱĽşɱƤŪǄşɁɱEƐíşđƍíɱƐíşɱƤĸĘɱĉíƐɘ
same hospital, having just had a hys- ber shop, and Grandma ran the beauty
terectomy, with no hope of conceiving salon, The Town Beauty Parlor. When
the daughter she and Dad wanted so I say ran, I mean they did everything.
badly. That she managed to connect Grandma would cut, trim, dye, set the
with my birth mother, whose origi- ladies’ hair. It was one of those places
nal plans of adoption had just fallen with big old sinks and a noisy pop ma-
through, seemed like God’s will. chine in the corner. If you made an ap-
People sometimes say, “You must pointment, you’d best keep it. That’s
feel bad because you were adopted.” the way it was in Hinton.
“What do you mean?” I shoot back. Grandma gave me little jobs. “You
I got the exact set of parents I was sup- think you can go in the back and
posed to have. sweep?” she’d say. Of course, I could.
Mom and Dad worked hard to give Or Grandpa would slip me some
Mark and me all the wonderful things change to buy candy at the drugstore.
we had and the opportunity to do all Grandma always had some vintage
the things we loved. I don’t think I jewelry she sold at the front desk. One
could ever thank them enough. Every summer, I spotted a beautiful antique
Christmas, there were the stockings crystal brooch shaped like a peacock.
Mom filled—and still does—with Perfect for Mom. It grabbed hold of my
little necessities: a cool new tooth- imagination just the way those fancy
jeans would later. I took
Sometimes you don’t get all the babysitting money
what you want. Sometimes I’d squirreled away and
whatever Grandma paid
what you get is even ŝĘɱİŪƐɱƘǄĘĘƍĽşıɱƤĸĘɱǡɱŪŪƐƘɱ
better. A blessing, in fact. and bought it. Bingo. I was
set for Christmas, kind of
brush, hair ties, that silly razor I want- forgetting that I didn’t have any money
ed, some hand sanitizer (these days). left to buy something for Dad and Mark.
Our stockings were hand-knit with They understood. We all under-
our names on top and jingle bells. stood. It made Mom happy, that one
That’s why from the time I was a big gift.
little girl I always wanted to give Mom Like those Gloria Vanderbilt jeans I
the best gift at Christmas. Something was hankering after a few years later.
perfect that would make her happy. Don’t worry, I’m getting to that part.

up and change the channels.
Good exercise too.) Christmas
Eve finally arrived. Dad read
us the story from the Bible:
“And in that region there were
shepherds out in the field,
őĘĘƍĽşıɱǄíƤĊĸɱŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘĽƐɱǡɱŪĊőɱ
by night….” Jesus was coming,
the light of the world.
After church on Christmas
morning, we ate the breakfast
you had to eat if you lived in
Oklahoma: grits, sausage, eggs
OKLAHOMA ROOTS Kristin’s high school and toast. We opened our stockings,
letter jacket is on display in her hometown ƤĸĘşɱǞɱşíŔŔǊɱƘĘƤƤŔĘđɱđŪǄşɱƤŪɱĸíşđɱŪƬƤɱ
at the Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center,
where the theater is named in her honor.
the big presents from under the tree.
My box looked big, easily big enough
for a pair of jeans, maybe two pairs.
Our high school didn’t have a big ŪƬŔđɱQɱĉĘɱƤĸíƤɱŔƬĊőǊɈɱQɱĸíđɱĉƬƤƤĘƐǡɱĽĘƘɱ
arts program back then, so the only in my stomach.
way I could make my mark as a per- I untied the ribbon, carefully took
former was dancing on the pom-pom off the paper (hearing in my head,
squad. I was a Tigette, cheering on the even if Mom didn’t say it aloud, “Save
Broken Arrow Tigers. Go, team! Our the paper,” so it could be reused next
colors were black and gold. Maybe year). Lifted the lid off the box. Only
that’s why I wanted those jeans so to see…what?
badly. So I would stand out. A Tigette letter jacket, black and
As soon as we put away the Thanks- gold with “Kristi” (that’s what I went
giving turkey that year I was 16, we by in those days!) stitched on the front
got out the Christmas decorations. and my graduation year on the sleeve.
BROKEN ARROW PERFORMING ARTS CENTER
We put carols on the stereo, made hot Those butterflies in my stomach

chocolate, set out the Advent calendar flew away real fast. Oh, I knew the
and the crèche and started counting jacket was a big deal: made to order
down the days. Would it ever be the and expensive. And we weren’t a rich
ƤǄĘşƤǊɘǞɱİƤĸɈ family. Mom later told me how the
I listened to carols, singing along, company had insisted that the size
and watched all the TV specials (I still was too small even for a super petite
watch ’em): Rudolph the Red-Nosed 16-year-old; she must have it wrong.
Reindeer, A Charlie Brown Christmas. No, Mom insisted, she really is four
(No remote then—you had to get foot eleven. (Still am—did I mention
COVER STORY
that?) I knew it was something I’d

need to have later in the year. Getting
your letter jacket is a big high school
moment, right up there with getting
your class ring. But for a Christmas
present? When I was totally expecting
those Gloria Vanderbilt jeans? Really?
“Wow, thanks so much,” I said, try-
ing to hide my disappointment. Ah,
contacts,ɱƤĸĘɱƍĸƐíƘĘɱǡɱĘǄɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱŝǊɱ
ĸĘíđɁɱQɱƍƬƤɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱŎíĊőĘƤɁɱɱƍĘƐİĘĊƤɱǞɱƤɁɱ
I knew that you should never refuse a
gift. You had to receive it, to honor the
givers, my dear parents who’d given
me so much. I felt guilty and grateful ONSTAGE Kristin played Glinda the Good
all at once. I thought of that brooch Witch to Idina Menzel’s Elphaba the Wicked
Witch in the original cast of Wicked, one of
that had made Mom so happy, and me Broadway’s longest-running musicals.
so happy and excited to give it to her.
This was not the gift I expected, the
gift that I wanted, the fancy designer humble couple who traveled by don-
jeans I wanted everybody to see me in. key to Bethlehem, lodging in a stable
Yet suddenly… because there was no room for people
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw like them at the inn—I could hear Dad
our crèche and God’s son asleep in the read the words—wrapping their baby
manger. He too had the perfect adop- in swaddling clothes and laying him
tive parents of sorts, whom God had in a manger. A manger, where animals
entrusted him to, Mary and Joseph, ate, for his earthly throne. Nothing
standing over him. At once something could have been more unexpected.
happened inside me, disappointment şđɱǄĸŪɱǄíƘɱĽƤɱǄĸŪɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĊíŝĘɱƤŪɱ VIRGINIA SHERWOOD/NBCUNIVERSAL/GETTY IMAGES
becoming transformed and trans- worship him? Shepherds, the lowliest
forming me in the process. in that world’s pecking order, bring-
Jesus wasn’t the Messiah—the ing their sheep, guided by angels who
gift—that many people expected. appeared to them in the heavens. The
Not that king who would reign from light of the universe did come, a child
a palace, the powerful figure Herod who would indeed grow up to change
feared would lead mighty armies with the world but through love and com-
his sword. He was but an infant born passion and understanding and a
to a mere carpenter and his teenage ƘíĊƐĽǞɱĊĽíŔɱđĘíƤĸɱƤĸíƤɱđĘǞɱĘđɱíŔŔɱĘǉƍĘĊɘ
bride from the tiny town of Nazareth, ƤíƤĽŪşƘɁɱ}şɱƤĸíƤɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɂɱbĘƘƬƘɱ
a poor speck on the map in Galilee. A entered our world in so humble a way

that no one could have imagined it. Yet You.” Another tells of teenage Mary’s
he was the gift all mankind needed. journey, “Along the Little Road to
I
Bethlehem,” and a Hanukkah song
grew up that Christmas when I was by Stephen Schwartz (who wrote the
16. I learned that what is given in music and lyrics for Wicked) shows
love should be accepted with love. how the darkness can be vanquished:
How proud I was wearing that jacket “We Are Lights.”
on campus; how I treasured it over the “You are the light of the world,” Je-
years. After the career I’ve had—be- sus said. We are.
yond my expectations—I gave it to the I like to be back in Broken Arrow—
Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center, like me, it’s grown up a lot—for
which has honored it and me by dis- Christmas to be with Mom and Dad,
playing it in a glass cabinet for all to see the old crèche and the stockings
see, worn by the Tigette who went on Mom knit for us, but it’s not always
to bigger stages and wider screens. possible. Performances, recording
Ever since that Christmas, I’ve tried ıĽıƘɂɱ¸ÖɱƘĸŪǄƘɂɱǞɱŔŝɱƘĊĸĘđƬŔĘƘɱđŪşɥƤɱ
to look at what seem like disappoint- always allow it. In that case, Mom and
ments differently. Sometimes you Dad join me where I am. On the road,
don’t get what you want. Sometimes in New York, in Los Angeles. Wherever
what you get is even better. A blessing, we can celebrate. That we’re together
in fact. A disappointment can be the is what’s most important.
way you are shown the direction you Without fail, Dad brings his Bible
are meant to go in, not necessarily the with him, and even if it’s offstage,
one you want. Sometimes disappoint- with a group of actors and crew mem-
ments morph into miracles. bers gathered around on Christmas
Recently I had the pleasure of re- Eve, he reads those ancient words:
cording my new album, Happiness Is… “And in that region there were shep-
Christmas, with songs that remind us ĸĘƐđƘɱŪƬƤɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱǞɱĘŔđɂɱőĘĘƍĽşıɱǄíƤĊĸɱ
of the greatest miracle. Some are play- ŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘĽƐɱǡɱŪĊőɱĉǊɱşĽıĸƤɅɁɣ
ful, like one we put together to mark The gift that changed the world.
that 16-year-old’s disappointment,
“Santa, I’ve Got a Bone to Pick With For more on this story, see FAMILY ROOM
“I hit the snooze button on my alarm and prop myself up

DAILY DO
on my pillows. In these quiet minutes, I ask

to be wide awake to every blessing the day holds.”
—COLLEEN HUGHES, Editor
Kristin shares stories behind her new songs at guideposts.org/kristinchenoweth 41

OVERCOMING ADDICTION
Addict. Drug dealer.
Felon. And now one
of New York’s most
The popular SoulCycle

instructors. How did
Power of the miracle begin?
Surrender By NOA SHAW, Brooklyn, New York
M
eet me and I bet you don’t convicted felon to living and thriving
think, That guy’s a New as a sober person for 14 years so far.
ÝŪƐőɰǝɰƤşĘƘƘɰĽşƘƤƐƬĊƤŪƐɀ I used to hate what I’d done to my-
I’m not some toned and self. Now I wake up excited for each
tanned yoga teacher wearing trendy new day. Surrendering to a higher
athletic gear. power taught me that anyone, how-
I’m a 58-year-old recovering alco- ever low they’ve sunk, can change di-
holic and drug addict with a regular- rection and climb back up.
guy physique, shaved head, long gray I want to pass on that hope. I want
beard and a body covered in tattoos. to share the joy that comes from liv-
Actually, I don’t think of myself as ing without fear. It’s my mission. One
íɱǞɱƤşĘƘƘɱĽşƘƤƐƬĊƤŪƐɂɱƤĸŪƬıĸɱQɱđŪɱƤĘíĊĸɱ class, one client, one day at a time.
SoulCycle classes in New York City, You’ll see what I mean if you come
where I live. I’m not sure what to call to one of my classes. Rows of sta-
what I do for a living. tionary bicycles face a single bike on
How about…soul inspirer. That’s a platform up front. People arrive, in
my goal for every class I lead. It’s also every shape, size and fitness level.
PHOTOS BY TODD PLITT
what I try to do for my life-coaching They climb on the bikes, and the lights
clients. And my podcast listeners. dim. Rock music starts up.
I have been blessed by God with an I go slow at first, but soon we’re
amazing second chance in life. I went pounding the pedals, and the music
from being an addict, drug dealer and gets louder. I’m loud too.
“Everything you need is already in- my habit. TV makes the drug life look
side you!” I shout. “That’s why I call ıŔíŝŪƐŪƬƘɁɱ ĘŔĽĘǃĘɱ ŝĘɂɱ ĽƤɥƘɱ şŪƤɂɱ şŪɱ
this a work-in, not a workout!” matter how many hip New York par-
I share my story. I encourage people ties you go to or how many A-list ce-
to face their own fears and believe in lebrities buy your drugs.
themselves. I don’t proselytize, but One morning, after a night of club-
I am candid about being a changed bing and dealing, I sat in my car on a
man, saved by grace and grateful for Manhattan side street, snorting coke
everything I have. and watching the sun rise. The neigh-
There’s something about being in a borhood gradually woke up, and fam-
small, loud room, surrounded by ex- ilies began coming outside to walk
hausted, exhilarated, sweaty people to school or work. Parents with kids.
facing their limits, that makes you Husbands and wives. Good people.
vulnerable. They all looked so happy. So normal.
It sounds weird, but it feels like I sat there, alone with my coke and
church. That’s how it was for me my self-loathing. QɤŝɰşŪƤɰǄŪƐƤĸǊɰŪİɰíɰıŪŪđɰ
ǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɁɱĘİŪƐĘɱQɱĉĘĊíŝĘɱíşɱĽşƘƤƐƬĊɘ ŔĽİĘɁ I thought. That pretty much sums
tor, I was a rider like anyone else. I up the self-consuming reality of ad-
ƘƤƬŝĉŔĘđɱĽşƤŪɱŝǊɱǞɱƐƘƤɱ«ŪƬŔǊĊŔĘɱĊŔíƘƘɱ diction, the spiritual desolation.
10 years ago. I weighed 300 pounds I could tell you my addiction story,
and smoked four packs of cigarettes a ŝǊɱƏƬíŔĽǞɱĊíƤĽŪşɱíƘɱǄĘɱƘíǊɱĽşɱǮǯɘƘƤĘƍɂɱ
day. I was only a few years sober. I had íşđɱĉĘŔĽĘǃĘɱŝĘɂɱĽƤɥƘɱĊƐíǔǊɁɱƬƤɱĽƤɱíƐƐĽǃĘƘɱ
no idea that one class would change where they all do. At rock bottom.
the course of my life. pĽşĘɱĊíŝĘɱĽşɱǯǭǭǳɁɱQɥđɱŝŪǃĘđɱƤŪɱfŪƘɱ
B
Angeles to pursue stand-up comedy.
ack up to the beginning. I can’t One day, cops searched my Holly-
blame anyone but myself for my wood apartment and discovered bags
problems. I grew up in a loving of marijuana and cash. I was arrested,
middle-class family. We moved a lot convicted and ordered into a six-
as my dad climbed the corporate lad- month residential treatment program
der in publishing, and I always felt out in L.A., plus two years’ probation.
of place at school. I’d already been to rehab multiple
Lots of kids grow up feeling awk- times and even sobered up for a long
ward. I dealt with it by drinking, start- ƘƤƐĘƤĊĸɱíİƤĘƐɱǞɱşĽƘĸĽşıɱíɱƤƐĘíƤŝĘşƤɱƍƐŪɘ
ing with sips I’d sneak from my par- gram in Mississippi during my mid-
ents’ liquor cabinet before escalating twenties. Walking into the facility in
to full-blown alcohol dependency by L.A., I suddenly remembered what it
high school. had felt like to be sober. I’d been hap-
Soon I picked up cocaine, got ad- py. Stable. Proud of myself. The siren
dicted and started dealing to support song of drugs took that all away.
44 G U I D E P O S T S • D e c / J a n 2 0 2 2
would never let me
go. I surrendered
wholeheartedly.
Though my sobri-
ety didn’t last, I
had been touched
by something mi-
raculous that had
taken root deep in
my soul.
So I was ready,
really ready, to
surrender again in
the L.A. treatment
SOUL INSPIRER Noa motivates riders with program. I prayed every morning and
his own story of redemption. “With God, I’m ĘǃĘşĽşıɁɱQɱǄŪƐőĘđɱƤĸĘɱǮǯɱƘƤĘƍƘɁɱQɱǄíƘɱ
going to be okay, no matter what,” he says.
determined to walk a different path
and asked God for guidance.
Why had I relapsed? I didn’t really I became a case manager—but
know. What I did know is I wanted that didn’t mean all my habits were
my sobriety back, and I would do any- healthy. I ballooned to 300 pounds.
thing to get it. My doctor told me I was a junk food
I remembered a guy I’d met in the addict and a walking heart attack.
Mississippi treatment program. One day, out shopping for under-
“Do you pray?” he’d asked in a thick wear (I’m not kidding), I passed a
Southern accent. brand-new SoulCycle studio in a mall.
“No,” I said. On a strange impulse, I walked in.
“Why? You afraid?” “Want to try a class?” said the own-
“I’m not afraid of anything.” After er. Me? Something made me say yes.
all, I’d been shot at during drug deals I heaved myself onto the bike closest
and tried to kill myself several times. to the door—in case I keeled over and
“Then get down on your knees and someone had to haul me out.
pray with me.” The guy knelt by his I started pedaling. Right away, I was
bed and put his hands together. out of breath. Everything hurt. I want-
I wasn’t about to back down from ed to stop so badly.
a challenge. I knelt beside him. The Then a thought came to me: I have
next thing I knew, a peace I had never ƘƬƐǃĽǃĘđɰıĘƤƤĽşıɰƘĸŪƤɰíƤɁɰíƤƤĘŝƍƤĽşıɰƤŪɰ
experienced enveloped me. A sense őĽŔŔɰŝǊƘĘŔİɰíşđɰđŪĽşıɰíşɰĽşƘíşĘɰíŝŪƬşƤɰ
that something bigger than I could ŪİɰđƐƬıƘɀɰŝɰQɰıŪĽşıɰƤŪɰŔĘƤɰŎƬşőɰİŪŪđɰđĘɗ
comprehend held me in its hands and İĘíƤɰŝĘɇɰrŪɅ
Want to start exercising? Noa shares his tips at guideposts.org/noashaw 45

I pedaled my heart out and, by the A month later, a master teacher

end of the class, felt like a different asked if I’d like to become an instruc-
person. It wasn’t quite like praying, tor myself. I agreed and ended up
but it was close. I had left some bro- moving back to New York to train.
ken part of me behind on the bike My teaching style was…unique. I
and walked out of the studio feeling held nothing back. I shared my story
amazed that I’d survived. of addiction and recovery. My struggle
I signed up for two more classes the with weight. My feelings of worthless-
next day. And the next. Then the day ness and my newfound faith in myself.
after that. I lost weight fast and gained QƤɱǄíƘɱíşɱĘǉĘƐĊĽƘĘɱĊŔíƘƘɁɱƬƤɱĽƤɱǄíƘɱíŔƘŪɱ
a reputation for inspiring other riders a place where people, including me,
with my enthusiasm and willingness could trade their self-deceptions and
to bare my soul as the class revved up. negative self-talk for an hour’s worth
rŪƤɱŔŪşıɱíİƤĘƐɱŝǊɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĊŔíƘƘɂɱíşɱĽşɘ of pure grit. A sanctuary. I loved it.
structor called. He’d hurt his ankle. I’ve been doing it ever since. My
“Want to help me teach?” he asked. classes are popular, but it’s not be-
Again, something made me say yes. ĊíƬƘĘɱQɥŝɱƘŪŝĘɱǞɱƤşĘƘƘɱƘƤíƐɁɱQɱĸíǃĘɱíɱ
I was still pretty heavy. I still smoked, hope and an honesty that comes from
though less. I mounted the podium surrender to a loving higher power.
and got on a bike beside the instruc- I’ve been to the bottom and, by the
tor’s. He led the class, but I helped grace of God, climbed back up.
keep the cadence going. I thought I See what I mean? I’m a soul inspirer.
ǄŪƬŔđɱĉĘɱƤĘƐƐĽǞɱĘđɁɱQşƘƤĘíđɂɱƤĸĘɱĉƐĽıĸƤɱ A guy saved by grace who is helping
lights and eager faces inspired me ŪƤĸĘƐɱƍĘŪƍŔĘɱǞɱşđɱƤĸĘĽƐɱŪǄşɱşĘǉƤɱƐĽıĸƤɱ
to pedal even harder. They made me step. One class, one client, one day at
want to be my best self. a time.
GUIDEPOSTS
Statement of ownership, management and circulation of Guideposts (publication number 231-460) is published
bimonthly (6 issues published annually) by Guideposts, 100 Reserve Road, Suite E200, Danbury, CT 06810
as required by the Act of August 12, 1970, Section 3685, Title 39, United States Code as filed on September
28, 2021. The names and addresses of the publisher and the editor-in-chief and are: Publisher, Jimmy Lee,
Guideposts, 100 Reserve Road, Suite E200, Danbury, CT 06810. Editor-in-Chief, Edward Grinnan, Guideposts,
110 William Street, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. The owner is Guideposts, 100 Reserve Road, Suite E200,
Danbury, CT 06810, a nonprofit organization. Names and addresses of individual owners: None. The known
bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding one percent or more of total amount of
bonds, mortgages or other securities: None. The exempt status has not changed during preceding 12 months.
Annual Subscription Price: $16.94. Average number of copies of each issue during preceding 12 months, and
of the single issue nearest to filing date, respectively are as follows: Total number of copies printed (net press
run) 1,156,757–1,166,806; Paid distribution (sales through dealers and carriers, street vendors and counter
sales) 0–0; Paid mail subscriptions 990,008–975,980; Total paid distribution 990,008–975,980; Free dis-
tribution 140,068–143,230; Total distribution 1,130,076–1,119,210; Copies not distributed 26,681–47,596;
Percent paid 87.6%–87.2%

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CAREGIVERS
The
of
QƤɱǄíƘɱŪƬƐɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱ
ƘĘƐǃĽĊĘɱƘĽşĊĘɱŝǊɱŝŪŝɱǄĘşƤɱ By KRISTEN KEMP
Montclair, New Jersey
ĽşƤŪɱíɱŝĘŝŪƐǊɱĊíƐĘɱƬşĽƤɁɱ
LŪǄɱǄŪƬŔđɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱĘǃĘƐɱ early, everything, even the simplest
ĉĘɱƤĸĘɱƘíŝĘɈ ƤíƘőƘɂɱƤŪŪőɱŔŪşıĘƐɱşŪǄɁɱ
I
×ĸĘşɱQɱǄíƘɱŝíőĽşıɱƤĸĘɱǴǭǭɘŝĽŔĘɱ
n my mother’s room at the mem- trip from my home in New Jersey to
ory care center, I dug through the southern Indiana, where my parents
ĊŔŪƤĸĘƘɱƍĽŔĘđɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱǡɱŪŪƐɱŔŪŪőĽşıɱ lived, getting Mom to church had
for a sweater and scarf. Her clos- İĘŔƤɱŔĽőĘɱŝǊɱƤŪƍɱƍƐĽŪƐĽƤǊɁɱ¸ĸĽƘɱǄŪƬŔđɱ
et had plenty of hangers, but Mom, be Mom’s first Christmas at church
who’d always been tidy, no longer re- since she’d gone into memory care.
membered to use them. ¸ĸĘɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱ-ǃĘɱĊíşđŔĘŔĽıĸƤɱƘĘƐǃĽĊĘɱ
“What’s happening, dear?” she was one of our traditions, and I’d want-
íƘőĘđɂɱİƬǔǔǊɱŪşɱŝǊɱşíŝĘɁ ed her to have something familiar to
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I reminded hold on to. But now I wondered. Mom’s
her. “We’re going to church. One of ŔǔĸĘĽŝĘƐɥƘɱ đĽƘĘíƘĘɱ ĸíđɱ íđǃíşĊĘđɁɱ
your favorite places.” She’d barely left the facility in months.
“We always go to such fun places,” ¸ĸĘɱ ĊĸƬƐĊĸɱ ǄŪƬŔđɱ ĉĘɱ ƍíĊőĘđɂɱ íşđɱ
Mom said, smiling vacantly. It was crowds sometimes overwhelmed her.
unclear what, if anything, she had Did Christmas have any meaning for
understood. Mom anymore?
I glanced at my watch. “We need to As a long-distance caregiver, I’d had
hurry.” My dad, husband and three ƤŪɱŔĘƤɱıŪɱŪİɱƘŪɱŝƬĊĸɱŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘɱƍíƘƤɱǮǭɱ
őĽđƘɱǄĘƐĘɱŝĘĘƤĽşıɱƬƘɱíƤɱĊĸƬƐĊĸɱİŪƐɱ years, so much of the relationship I’d
the afternoon service. Even though I cherished between Mom and me. I’d
wanted to get Mom settled in a pew ĘǃĘşɱƘƤƐƬııŔĘđɱƤŪɱíđŝĽƤɱƤĸíƤɱŔǔĸĘĽŝɘ
CAREGIVERS
er’s could be the cause of her

slipping memory, as if denial
ǄŪƬŔđɱƘŪŝĘĸŪǄɱőĘĘƍɱƤĸĘɱđĘɘ
mon at bay.
×ĘɥđɱƤíŔőĘđɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱƍĸŪşĘɱ
ĘǃĘƐǊɱ đíǊɱ ĉíĊőɱ ƤĸĘşɁɱ ɢQɥŝɱ
forgetting things,” she’d said
đƬƐĽşıɱŪşĘɱĊíŔŔɁɱɢQɱƤĸĽşőɱƘŪŝĘɘ
thing is wrong with me. I’m
going to see the doctor.”
“Mom, you’re just doing too
much,” I’d insisted. She was
only 69, a retired teacher with
a sharp mind. “You’re so busy
gardening and volunteering.
All your activities at church.”
F
íĽƤĸɁɱ¸ĸíƤɱǄíƘɱŪşĘɱŪİɱƤĸĘɱ
big differences between
us. Mom rarely missed
Sunday services or Bible study.
She prayed often. When I was
growing up, it was a given on
Sunday mornings that Mom
and I would be in a pew at our
Methodist church in Jefferson-
ville, sitting beside her moth-
er, whom we called MeMe.
(My much older brother had already MOTHER-DAUGHTER BOND Kristen
ǡɱŪǄşɱƤĸĘɱşĘƘƤɱǄĸĘşɱQɱǄíƘɱŔĽƤƤŔĘɂɱŪƐɱĸĘɱ and Carolyn have always been close despite
the physical distance separating them.
would’ve been there too.)
“Your faith will always be some-
thing you can rely on,” Mom told me. old hymns in church, her voice soar-
PHOTOS COURTESY KRISTEN KEMP
ɢÝŪƬɱşĘĘđɱƤŪɱőşŪǄɱEŪđɱǄĽŔŔɱĉĘɱƤĸĘƐĘɱƤŪɱ ĽşıɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƘŪşıɱĊŪŝĽşıɱİƐŪŝɱĸĘƐɱŔĽƍƘɱ
catch you when you fall.” For MeMe, was so joyful, as if she were one with
church was a social event, but for ƤĸĘɱŝƬƘĽĊɁɱQƤɱǄíƘɱíŝíǔĽşıɁ
pŪŝɱĽƤɱǄíƘɱíĉŪƬƤɱİĘĘŔĽşıɱĊŔŪƘĘɱƤŪɱEŪđɂɱ Even so, after I left Jeffersonville to
ĉíƘőĽşıɱĽşɱĸĽƘɱŔŪǃĽşıɱƘƍĽƐĽƤɁɱ-ǃĘşɱíƘɱíɱ follow my dream of becoming a writer
girl, I could see that. ĽşɱrĘǄɱÝŪƐőɱĽƤǊɂɱQɱŔĘİƤɱĊĸƬƐĊĸɱĉĘĸĽşđɱ
I loved listening to Mom sing the me too. I was focused on building my
50 GUIDEPOSTS • % Ę Ċ Ɏ b í ş ɱǯ ǭ ǯ ǯ
ĊíƐĘĘƐɂɱıĘƤƤĽşıɱŝíƐƐĽĘđɂɱĸíǃĽşıɱőĽđƘɁ One Sunday morning, I decided to
Mom hated that her own children ıŪɱƤŪɱĊĸƬƐĊĸɱíŔŪşĘɁɱQɱƍĽĊőĘđɱíɱŝĘıíɘ
lived so far away; my brother had ĊĸƬƐĊĸɱQɥđɱŪİƤĘşɱǄíŔőĘđɱĉǊɁɱQɱƐĘŝĘŝɘ
ŝŪǃĘđɱƤŪɱ¸ĘǉíƘɁɱQɱĊíŝĘɱĸŪŝĘɱíƘɱŪİɘ bered how loud and joyful the music
ƤĘşɱíƘɱQɱĊŪƬŔđɁɱpŪŝɱíşđɱQɱĘǃĘşɱƤŪŪőɱíɱ had sounded, even from the street.
girls’ trip to England, Wales and Ire- ¸ĸĘɱƍíƐĽƘĸĽŪşĘƐƘɱƘĘĘŝĘđɱĸíƍƍǊɱíşđɱ
land. Mostly I stayed close through animated as they streamed outside
our daily calls. after services. I wanted to feel what
pĘpĘɱĸíđɱđĘǃĘŔŪƍĘđɱŔǔĸĘĽŝĘƐɥƘɂɱ they were feeling.
and Mom had cared for her until the QɱƤŪŪőɱíɱƘĘíƤɱĽşɱíɱĊƐŪǄđĘđɱƍĘǄɁɱɢ×Ęɱ
ĘşđɁɱpŪŝɱǄíƘɱƤĘƐƐĽǞɱĘđɱƤĸíƤɱƘĸĘɱƤŪŪɱ all suffer physical and mental health
would fall victim to it. She didn’t crises,” the pastor said. “Believe in
want to be a burden to my father, my EŪđɂɱíşđɱĸĘɱǄĽŔŔɱƍƐŪđƬĊĘɱŝĽƐíĊŔĘƘɁɣ
ĉƐŪƤĸĘƐɱíşđɱŝĘɁɱQɱőşĘǄɱQɱ
couldn’t be the caregiver In drawing me back into his
she had been. Not from house, God had given me
New Jersey, where life
was filled with respon- a connection with my mom
sibilities, a mortgage, that went beyond words.
young children.
“You don’t have dementia,” I’d told What kind of miracle could I hope for?
Mom over the phone. Was I trying to QɱǄŪşđĘƐĘđɁɱ¸ĸĘƐĘɥƘɱşŪɱĊƬƐĘɱİŪƐɱŔǔɘ
reassure her or myself? heimer’s, after all.
Days later, while driving to nearby Still, when the service was over, the
fŪƬĽƘǃĽŔŔĘɂɱ dĘşƤƬĊőǊɂɱ ƤŪɱ íɱ đŪĊƤŪƐɥƘɱ people around me greeted me with
appointment, Mom got totally lost. such genuine warmth and caring. I
She’d had to call Dad; he drove to her ǄĘşƤɱĉíĊőɱƤĸĘɱşĘǉƤɱ«ƬşđíǊɱíşđɱƤĸĘɱ
so she could follow him home. one after that.
ɢQɱđŪşɥƤɱőşŪǄɱǄĸíƤɥƘɱĸíƍƍĘşĽşıɱƤŪɱ QɱőĘƍƤɱıŪĽşıɁɱQɱŔĘíƐşĘđɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐđƘɱƤŪɱ
me,” she said. “I’m scared, Kristen.” the praise songs. I started reading my
¸ĸĘɱđŪĊƤŪƐɥƘɱđĽíışŪƘĽƘɱǄíƘɱĽşĊŪşɘ Bible and praying, devoting time each
ĊŔƬƘĽǃĘɂɱĉƬƤɱQɱıƐĘǄɱŝŪƐĘɱíşǉĽŪƬƘɱǄĽƤĸɱ day to nourishing my long-neglected
each passing month and with each spiritual side.
troubling call with Mom. I was no lon- pŪŝɱ đĘĊŔĽşĘđɱ ƘŔŪǄŔǊɱ ǊĘƤɱ ĽşĘǉŪɘ
ger in denial about her condition. I’d ƐíĉŔǊɁɱ%íđɱĸĽđɱĸĘƐɱĊíƐɱőĘǊƘɁɱrŪƤɱĉĘɘ
ƘŔĽƍƍĘđɱĽşƤŪɱíɱőĽşđɱŪİɱđĘƍƐĘƘƘĽŪşɱíƤɱƤĸĘɱ ing able to go out by herself devas-
thought of losing Mom bit by bit to a tated her. I pushed to get Mom into a
disease that steals who we are. And of memory care facility. I called facilities
not being able to be there for her when across southern Indiana. But Dad and
she needed me most. my brother felt it was too soon.
CAREGIVERS
I poured out all my frustrations, my ĸƬƘĉíşđɱĉŪŪőĘđɱŝĘɱíɱƤĽĊőĘƤɱİŪƐɱƤĸĘɱ

İĘíƐƘɂɱŝǊɱıƐĽĘİɱƤŪɱEŪđɁɱpǊɱƍíƘƤŪƐɱƘƍŪőĘɱ şĘǉƤɱǡɱĽıĸƤɱŪƬƤɁɱ
ŪİƤĘşɱíĉŪƬƤɱĸŪǄɱİíĽƤĸɱĊŪƬŔđɱƤíőĘɱƤĸĘɱ QɱƘƤíǊĘđɱĽşɱQşđĽíşíɱİŪƐɱƤǄŪɱǄĘĘőƘɁɱ
place of worry. Letting go, living in My brother also came to help. Mom
the moment and trusting the future to was confused and upset by everything
EŪđɁɱ¸ĸĘɱŝŪƐĘɱQɱıƐĘǄɱƘƍĽƐĽƤƬíŔŔǊɂɱƤĸĘɱ that was happening. I called eight
more I wanted to learn. I started prac- agencies and found a home health
ticing yoga, then eventually trained to care aide who could put in a full day
ĉĘĊŪŝĘɱíɱǊŪıíɱƤĘíĊĸĘƐɂɱĘǉƍŔŪƐĽşıɱĘǃĘşɱ ǄĽƤĸɱpŪŝɱíşđɱ%íđɱíİƤĘƐɱQɥđɱıŪşĘɱĉíĊőɱ
more deeply how to stay present. to New Jersey. She was a sweet wom-
My daily conversations with Mom an older than my parents, who were
were becoming more one-sided. I in their late seventies by then. Mean-
would tell her in detail about my fam- while, I put Mom on a waiting list at
ĽŔǊɂɱƤĸĘɱőĽđƘɥɱƘƍŪƐƤƘɂɱŝǊɱǄƐĽƤĽşıɱíƘƘĽışɘ a memory care center. I didn’t want
ŝĘşƤƘɂɱƤĸĘɱ¸ÖɱƘĸŪǄƘɱǄĘɱǄĘƐĘɱĽşƤŪɂɱ ƤŪɱƬƍƘĘƤɱ%íđɱĉǊɱƤíŔőĽşıɱƤŪɱĸĽŝɱíĉŪƬƤɱ
what we ate for dinner, the songs I it, but there was no doubt in my mind
sang at church. It wasn’t always clear ƤĸíƤɱpŪŝɱşĘĘđĘđɱǯǱɎǴɱĊíƐĘɁ
how much she registered, but Mom A room became available in January
íşđɱQɱǄĘƐĘɱĊŪşşĘĊƤĽşıɁɱ¸ĸíƤɥƘɱǄĸíƤɱQɱ ǯǭǮǵɂɱŎƬƘƤɱíƘɱ%íđɱíƐƐĽǃĘđɱíƤɱƤĸĘɱƘíŝĘɱ
told myself, anyway. ĊŪşĊŔƬƘĽŪşɱŪşɱĸĽƘɱŪǄşɂɱƘƬƐĘŔǊɱíşɱĘǉɘ
One day, while I was at the yoga íŝƍŔĘɱŪİɱEŪđɱíƤɱǄŪƐőɁɱQɱǄĘşƤɱĉíĊőɱƤŪɱ
studio where I taught, Dad’s number Indiana to help with the move. We
popped up on my cell phone. Some- ƍíĊőĘđɱpŪŝɥƘɱĊŔŪƤĸĘƘɂɱİíŝĽŔǊɱƍĸŪƤŪƘɱ
thing’s happened to Mom! I thought. íşđɱ İíǃŪƐĽƤĘɱ ĊŪŔŪƐĽşıɱ ĉŪŪőƘɁɱ QƤɱ ǄíƘɱ
But it was Dad who needed help. He’d hard for everyone, but Mom was safe,
ıŪşĘɱƤŪɱƤĸĘɱÖɱĸŪƘƍĽƤíŔɱǄĽƤĸɱĊĸĘƘƤɱ which was the best I could hope for. I
ƍíĽşɁɱ¸ĸĘɱđŪĊƤŪƐɱĸíđɱŪƐđĘƐĘđɱĘŝĘƐɘ couldn’t call her every day; a conver-
gency quadruple bypass surgery for sation didn’t hold her attention for
ƤĸĘɱşĘǉƤɱđíǊɁɱ ŔŪşıɁɱQşƘƤĘíđɂɱQɱƤŪŪőɱƤŪɱĊíŔŔĽşıɱ%íđɱ
Dad was scared for himself and even ĘǃĘƐǊɱĘǃĘşĽşıɁɱQşɱíɱǄíǊɂɱĽƤɱİĘŔƤɱŔĽőĘɱ
more worried about Mom. Could I honoring Mom. She’d been devoted
come home? I raced to my house. My ƤŪɱĸĽŝɱİŪƐɱƤĸĘĽƐɱǳǭɘǊĘíƐɱŝíƐƐĽíıĘɁ
“When the weather permits, I go for a

DAILY DO
walk outside. Appreciating the beauty of the natural

world reminds me to stay in the present.”
—HILARY RIBONS, Editor
ĸíđɱƘƬƘƤíĽşĘđɱĸĘƐɱĸíđɱİĽşíŔŔǊɱƤíőĘşɱ
hold in me, and I couldn’t help but
ƤĸĽşőɱƤĸĽƘɱǄíƘɱǄĸíƤɱƘĸĘɱǄŪƬŔđɱĸíǃĘɱ
ǄíşƤĘđɁɱ¸ĸŪƬıĸɱǄĘɱǄĘƐĘɱƘĘƍíƐíƤĘđɱ
by the miles between us, by her loss
ŪİɱŝĘŝŪƐǊɂɱĸĘƐĘɱĽşɱĊĸƬƐĊĸɂɱĉíƘőĽşıɱĽşɱ
ƤĸĘɱŔĽıĸƤɱŪİɱEŪđɥƘɱŔŪǃĘɂɱQɱİĘŔƤɱƘŪɱĊŔŪƘĘɱƤŪɱ
ŝǊɱŝŪŝɁɱ¸ĸĽƘɱǄíƘɱŝǊɱŝĽƐíĊŔĘɁ
¸ĸíƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱ-ǃĘɱĽşɱQşđĽíşíɂɱíİɘ
ter Mom had gone into memory care, I
got her dressed and drove us to church
just before the candlelight service.
}ƬƐɱİíŝĽŔǊɱǞɱŔĘđɱĽşɁɱɢ¸íőĘɱŪƬƐɱƘĘíƤƘɂɣɱ
íɱǊŪƬşıɱĊŪƬƍŔĘɱǄĽƤĸɱíɱĉíĉǊɱƘíĽđɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱ
ǄĘƐĘɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱĉíĊőɱƐŪǄɁɱpŪŝɱĊŪƬŔđɱƘĽƤɱ
near the end of the pew between Dad
and me. Perfect.
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS Her mother’s We got settled, and the music— all
Alzheimer’s made gathering the family for ƤĸĘɱİíŝĽŔĽíƐɱĊíƐŪŔƘɛĉĘıíşɃɱɢ¸ĸĘɱDĽƐƘƤɱ
Christmas even more important to Kristen.
Noel,” “Joy to the World,” “Angels We
Have Heard on High.” Mom hummed
¸ĸƐŪƬıĸɱ ĽƤɱ íŔŔɂɱ Qɱ ĸĘŔđɱ İíƘƤɱ ƤŪɱ ŝǊɱ and even sang some of the lyrics. She
faith, to the support and friendship ĸĘŔđɱ%íđɥƘɱĸíşđɱíşđɱŝĽşĘɁɱ¸ĸĘşɱƘĸĘɱ
I’d found at church. One Sunday, I closed her eyes and bowed her head.
stood to the strains of a praise song “What is she doing?” Dad whis-
QɥđɱĊŪŝĘɱƤŪɱŔŪǃĘɂɱɢ¸ĸĘɱEƐĘíƤɱQɱŝɁɣɱQɱ pered to me.
raised my arms high, my body moving “She’s praying,” I said. Dad had
to the music, letting the words wash tears in his eyes.
over me. “I want to be near, near to Did Christmas still have meaning
your heart. Loving the world, hating for Mom? I didn’t have to wonder
ƤĸĘɱđíƐőɁɣ anymore.
¸ĸĘɱǃŪĽĊĘƘɱíƐŪƬşđɱŝĘɱŔĽİƤĘđɂɱŎŪǊŪƬƘɁɱ At the end of the service, as the
It reminded me so much of childhood ƘíşĊƤƬíƐǊɱǄĘşƤɱđíƐőɱíşđɱƤĸĘɱĊŪşıƐĘɘ
Sundays in Indiana, sitting beside gation began singing “Silent Night,” I
Mom in church, listening to her sing lit her candle. Mom’s eyes never left
out her love for the Lord. In draw- ƤĸĘɱǡɱíŝĘɱíƘɱƘĸĘɱŝŪƬƤĸĘđɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐđƘɁɱ
ĽşıɱŝĘɱĉíĊőɱĽşƤŪɱĸĽƘɱĸŪƬƘĘɂɱĊŔŪƘĘƐɱƤŪɱ İƤĘƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱşíŔɱǃĘƐƘĘɂɱƘĸĘɱƍƬĊőĘƐĘđɱĸĘƐɱ
ĸĽŝɂɱEŪđɱĸíđɱıĽǃĘşɱŝĘɱíɱǄíǊɱƤŪɱđƐíǄɱ lips and blew out her candle.
closer to my mother, a connection that ɢ¸ĸíşőɱǊŪƬɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɁɱɢ¸ĸíƤɱǄíƘɱ
ǄĘşƤɱ ĉĘǊŪşđɱ ǄŪƐđƘɁɱ ¸ĸĘɱ İíĽƤĸɱ ƤĸíƤɱ beautiful.”
CAREGIVERS
5 Ways to Move Past

Caregiver Denial
Kristen Kemp isn’t the only caregiver Hogan. “But many Zoom and Face-
to struggle with denial about the book groups now offer support and
extent of a loved one’s cognitive defi- comfort right from your home.”
cits. “For some people, denial is
part of the grief process,” says Home Discuss the future. “Many caregiv-
Instead gerontologist and caregiver ers avoid talking about the future,”
advocate Lakelyn Hogan, Ph.D. “Sub- Hogan says. “They think there will be
consciously, they know they are going time later.” But it’s vital to have those
to see their loved one decline—it’s difficult family conversations, which
called anticipatory grief—and denial should include legal considerations
helps buffer their feelings.” Once such as setting up a power of attorney.
family members have accepted their “Otherwise, caregivers may find
caregiver role, another type of denial themselves in a mess later on.”
may set in. “They think they can do
it all alone,” Hogan says. “They cut Educate yourself. Hogan suggests
themselves off from vital resources consulting reliable sources, such as
that could be helpful to them in their the Alzheimer’s Association, to learn
caregiving journey.” Here’s how to what you can expect as your family
move forward: member declines, as well as what
they may be experiencing. Make sure
Accept the personal losses. Some- to tune in to the individual. “For in-
times caregivers deny the reality of stance, if your loved one can’t handle
the situation because they fear losing noise and crowds,” she says, “skip
their own freedom and having to the busy church service and opt for an
drastically adjust their lifestyles. online service instead.”
“When you take away a loved one’s
car keys, you worry they will resent Hire respite care. Many people
you. But you need to find ways to get initially deny that their family members
them where they want to go,” Hogan need in-home care, such as the kind
says. “The sooner you face it, how- provided by Home Instead. “They say,
ever, the sooner you can find solutions ‘They’re not going to do half as good
that will work best for both of you.” a job as I do, so why bother?’” Hogan
says. “But once they step out in faith
Join an online support group. Care- and try it, they’re often relieved and
givers often feel that attending a sup- happy to have a break.”
port group won’t fit in their schedule.
“Up until the pandemic, there weren’t For more caregiving resources, visit
a lot of online support groups,” says homeinstead.com.
“I’ve raised
2 cows,
5 cats, and
3 troublesome boys.”
A life well lived should
continue at home.
Home Instead®RHUVFXVWRPL]HGVHUYLFHVIURP
personal care to memory care, so older adults
can stay home, stay safe, and stay happy.
Call (866) 996-1085 or visit

HomeInstead.com/Guideposts
Each Home Instead® franchise is independently owned and operated. © 2021 Home Instead, Inc.
A Day in the Life of Santa
’Tis the season to be jolly. And busy, if you’re Jon W. Sparks
Text by CELESTE MCCAULEY Photographs by KAREN PULFER FOCHT
“His Eyes—How They Twinkled!” Memphis-based

writer and actor Jon W. Sparks landed the role of Santa on
the Polar Express Train Ride in New Orleans in 2016.
Since then, he has played Santa every year. Or as one of
the children he’s met said, “You’re Santa’s helper.”

PHOTO ESSAY
In Character
Jon trims his
beard, and “Mrs.
Claus” (Jon’s wife,
Maritza) makes
sure his suit isn’t
wrinkled, his
boots are shined
and his hat is on
just right. “White
gloves,” Jon says,
“are a must.”
Saint Nick
at Night What
does Jon do if
someone has the
blues? “A good
Santa under-
stands people
have sadness in
their lives. My job
is to spread joy
and kindness.”
PHOTO ESSAY
To Give and
Receive “One
time a boy with
disabilities made
a big booklet of
Santa drawings
and writings and
said I had to have
it,” Jon says. “It
was hard to hold
back my tears.
Santa gets quite
a bit out of these
meetings too.”
Through a
Child’s Eyes
“The first duty
of Santa is to
children and
how you relate
to them,” Jon
says. Many of his
youngest visitors
stare at him in
wonder. Some
older ones are
PHOTO CREDIT TK
so excited, they
either can’t stop
talking or are
speechless.
58
Spreading Cheer Jon often prays before stepping out
as Santa. “Santa has to be connected to all of humanity.
Children are the purest forms of that humanity,” he says. “I
pray for strength to react well to any situation or question.”
Into the
Woods “Christ-
mas is so much
for the kids and
about getting
things, but it’s
also about giv-
ing. Whenever
we can get that
message across,
it’s good,” says
Jon, pictured
here at Cedar Hill
Farm in Hernan-
do, Mississippi.
FAITH IN ACTION
Moments
of Hope
A chaplain on the
front lines of the
epidemic talks about
what’s inspired him I wasn’t sure what he meant, but it
felt wrong to keep him on the phone
By ADAM RUIZ, Louisville, Kentucky any longer. I promised to call him the
J
next day. He thanked me. By evening
ohn was the first Covid-19 pa- ĸĘɱǄíƘɱđĘíđɁɱpǊɱǞɱƐƘƤɱŪǃĽđɘƐĘŔíƤĘđɱ
tient I spoke with over the phone death. We were both Hispanic, soon to
at Norton Women’s & Children’s ĉĘɱđĘǞɱşĘđɱíƘɱíɱĸĽıĸɘƐĽƘőɱđĘŝŪıƐíƍĸɘ
Hospital, where I am a chaplain. ic. He could have been me, I thought.
According to my patient list, John A novel virus, Covid-19, had arrived
was 33, Hispanic. It was March 2020. on American shores in January. For
He had been in our hospital two days. weeks, I’d lived with the hope that
PHOTOS BY ALTON STRUPP/COURIER JOURNAL VIA IMAGN CONTENT SERVICES, LLC

¸ĸíƤɱƘƍƐĽşıɂɱíƘɱƤĸĘɱđĘíđŔǊɱǃĽƐƬƘɱǄíƘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱ the virus would be contained before it
diagnosed in Kentucky, we chaplains reached Kentucky. I hadn’t let myself
were encouraged to comfort patients by consider any other scenario. Reality
phone to conserve protective equip- shook me to my core.
ment and reduce the risk of infection. It “Covid has arrived, and now we walk
ǄíƘɱđĽİǞɱĊƬŔƤɱşŪƤɱĉĘĽşıɱíĉŔĘɱƤŪɱƘĘĘɱƤĸĘŝɁ through a dark valley…and I am very
“How are you?” I asked. much afraid,” I wrote in my journal.
“Better,” John said. His labored Part of my job as a hospital chap-
breathing indicated otherwise. He lain—a position I’ve served in for 14
sounded as if he was suffocating, ev- years—is to help calm the anxieties of
ery breath a battle. the patients I minister to. I understand
He said he had no family nearby. “I’d the fear that comes with facing a med-
be happy to pray with you,” I said. ical trauma. As a teenager, I survived
“I don’t believe….” A long pause. a brain tumor. I saw how God worked
I tried to complete his thought: “You through the love of others. As a chap-
don’t believe in God?” lain, I got to pay that love forward. But
With his last ounce of strength, he Covid felt different. It was hard to be
gasped, “I will recover.” hopeful, hard to know if I was helping.

Until I turned my focus to the peo- ning from our Covid unit to the ICU
ple around me, looking outward in- and back. Even in the urgency of the
stead of inward. I began noticing acts moment, Deb’s selflessness seemed
of compassion. And the more I looked, remarkable. Everyone would have
the more I found—a practice I contin- understood if she hadn’t. Yet it was
ue to this day. Compassion is every- a lesson that would stay with me
where, as contagious as any virus. throughout the hard months to follow:
One of the first times this struck Compassion demands courage. It takes
me was early in the pandemic, during
a code blue. I saw Deb, a pharmacist PAYING LOVE FORWARD Adam sees com-
nine months pregnant, literally run- passion everywhere as a hospital chaplain.
FAITH IN ACTION
great courage not to turn away from

those in such desperate need, to put
yourself at risk for the good of others.
Later I asked Deb about it. “If you’re
not willing to run for someone who
is dying, when will you ever do it?”
she told me. “We have husbands and
wives and mothers and daughters dy-
ing of Covid in the hospital. If I run fast
enough, maybe we can save at least
one of them.”
After our conversation, I remem-
bered a Jewish proverb: “Before ev- SUPPORTING NEW MOTHERS Moms and
ery person, there marches an angel newborns are a particular focus of chaplains
at Norton Women & Children’s Hospital.
proclaiming, ‘Behold, the image of
EŪđɁɥɣɲ%ƬƐĽşıɱƤĸĘɱĊŪđĘɂɱQɱĉĘĸĘŔđɱƤĸĘɱ
image of God. And it was lovely. That in the washer as soon as I entered the
moment stayed with me. house. I mostly stayed downstairs,
It’s been said that when we watch a and she mostly stayed upstairs. It was
ǞɱŔŝɱƤŪıĘƤĸĘƐɂɱşŪşĘɱŪİɱƬƘɱƘĘĘƘɱƤĸĘɱƘíŝĘɱ simple yet proved effective.
ǞɱŔŝɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƘíŝĘɱĽƘɱƤƐƬĘɱİŪƐɱƤƐíƬŝíƤĽĊɱ Even at home, people were con-
events. We all experienced the pan- tacting me late at night to share their
demic together but felt it differently. anxiety. I often didn’t know what
Some grieved; some raged; some took to say. I admitted to a friend once, “I
action; some retreated into denial. At have nothing to offer you. I have only
times I tried to escape. But everywhere tears.” I felt as if I’d failed her, but
I ran led me right back to Covid. The those words gave her comfort. They
virus was all-consuming, relentless. reminded her she wasn’t the only one
«ŪɱŪİƤĘşɱQɱǄíşƤĘđɱƤŪɱǡɱĘĘɂɱƤŪɱƘƍĘşđɱƤĽŝĘɱ struggling with the pandemic.
with my wife and my pets, away from Similarly, that April, a chaplain
the pain, the sorrow, the anguish I dealt friend told me, “I don’t feel safe any-
with daily at work. My home was quiet where because I don’t think anyone
and less anxious than anywhere else. At knows what safe is.” Her vulnerability
one point, my wife and I discussed liv- ǞɱŔŔĘđɱŝĘɱǄĽƤĸɱĊŪŝƍíƘƘĽŪşɁɱQɱƐĘŝĽşđɘ
ing in separate quarters for safety, but ed her (and myself), “Covid is strong,
ƤĸĘɱƤĸŪƬıĸƤɱŪİɱđŪĽşıɱƘŪɱǄíƘɱĽşǞɱşĽƤĘŔǊɱ but we are stronger.” I wasn’t sure if I
more stressful than going through totally believed it, but I wanted to be-
this together, whatever the outcome. lieve that strength, like faith, comes
So we limited our time together, and not from what we can see with our
I had a ritual of throwing my clothes eyes but what we feel in our hearts.

The governor of Kentucky chose the Hearing all these stories made me
color green to honor all Covid-19 vic- ponder. So much of the love and soli-
tims and their families. Homes, banks, darity in the world we’re unaware
landmarks, hospitals and universities of—or at least I am. And yet when you
across the state were lit up with green stop to think about it, the impact is in-
lights. Each night in my own neigh- calculable, awe-inspiring, like trying
borhood, most of the homes were lit ƤŪɱĊŪƬşƤɱƤĸĘɱƘƤíƐƘɱƤĸíƤɱǞɱŔŔɱƤĸĘɱĸĘíǃĘşƘɁ
in green. Many places across the coun- I switched my work hours so that I
try, indeed all around the world, were could support our second- and third-
displaying similar acts of support for shift employees. An ICU nurse named
their community. Hannah shared her first experience
My friend Carola told me how peo- with a Covid patient. She was new to
ple in Nova Scotia created a Facebook nursing and very afraid of contracting
page to support each other through the virus. This patient was extremely
music, recipes, crafts and uplifting ill. It was Christmastime. She cared for
photos. Another friend, Laura, said him nine days straight, even coming in
that when her upstate New York com- on her days off. Being that she couldn’t
munity went into lockdown, within be with her family and his family
24 hours free lunch stations were set couldn’t be with him, she decided “we
up all over town to ensure no child would be family for each other.”
would go hungry, especially those Then Hannah told me, “There is the
who depend on school meals. Christmas story where Mary and Jo-
My high school friend Julia’s hus- seph get to Bethlehem and there is no
band died two weeks before Covid room in the inn for them. Well, there
slammed into her north-
ern Virginia community. I saw compassion demands
Forced separation from courage. It takes great
friends made Julia’s grief
even harder to bear. She courage to put yourself at
said what really saved risk for the good of others.
her from spiraling into
the abyss was that her local YMCA was room in my heart for my patient.
provided virtual support. Every day, in- He wouldn’t be left out in the cold by
structors came into her home via her himself. I was going to be his angel even
computer, providing connection, moti- if he never knew it.” He never did know
vation, inspiration and prayer. Despite because he was intubated his entire
having to navigate their own personal hospitalization. Sadly, he died. “Tak-
life challenges, they were faithful visi- ing care of him gave me the courage
tors, giving her what she needed dur- to help other Covid patients,” Hannah
ĽşıɱƤĸĽƘɱĽşĊƐĘđĽĉŔǊɱđĽİǞɱĊƬŔƤɱƤĽŝĘɁ said. “I will never forget him.”
FAITH IN ACTION
My friend Caroline, who lives in Bel-

gium, told me about her 73-year-old
neighbor, who had been taken to the
hospital with Covid. It was touch and
ıŪɱİŪƐɱíɱĉĽƤɂɱĉƬƤɱƘĸĘɱǞɱşíŔŔǊɱĊíŝĘɱĸŪŝĘɁɱ
“I put in front of her door a beautiful
basket full of vegetables, fruits, bis-
cuits, chocolates…and even a small
bottle of Italian spritz prosecco,” Car-
oline said. “She was so happy. I know
doctors and nurses are working all
hours, and it is horrible to see. This is
my contribution to the effort.”
In April 2020, an ICU nurse in my
hospital, Myra, was caring for a Covid STRONGER TOGETHER In the early days
patient who eventually died. It was of the pandemic, the hospital staff colored the
windows of a hallway in the mother-baby unit.
scary being in a Covid-positive room
in those early days. When it came
time to clean the room, Myra told the together. That thought alone gives me
environmental service employee not peace and reassurance.
to come in. “I will clean,” she said. I am greatly encouraged when I re-
“Don’t enter and risk infection.” Then member that the majority of people
she started mopping the room while have mobilized to protect and sustain
we watched from the safety of the the most vulnerable among us. While
hallway. What Myra did was an ex- Covid has had a devastating impact,
traordinary act of compassion. The the human spirit has not been extin-
whole world, according to Paul in guished or laid low. Quite the con-
Romans, stands on tiptoes waiting to trary. Heroes great and small, acts of
see the marvelous things of God. It’s kindness and compassion publicly
true. I felt blessed—as I have so many acknowledged or privately treasured,
times during this pandemic—simply all bear witness to the goodness of
to bear witness. humankind. We have walked through
Now it is 2021. The Delta variant this darkest of nights together, and
sweeps the country, and there is a long we are also witnesses to the light that
way to go before we get to the other overcomes the darkness. Faced with
side of Covid. I am a different per- sorrow, chaos and pain, our response
son than I was in the spring of 2020. has been love. Courage. Compassion.
I am more hopeful because I know May it always be so.
I am not alone. There are billions of
us around the world on this journey For more on this story, see FAMILY ROOM

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Hello,
Dolly!
A
I had plans for retirement— plaintive whine emerged
travel, fishing and just from the crate in my wife’s
ĸŪŝĘɱŪİǞɱĊĘɁɱrŪƤɱíıíĽşɁɱ¸ĸĘɱ
PHOTOS COURTESY MARILYN TURK
relaxing with my wife. They sound seemed to build as it

didn’t include a puppy traveled down the hall, invading the
ƘƤĽŔŔşĘƘƘɱŪİɱŪƬƐɱĉĘđƐŪŪŝɁɱrŪƤɱƤĸíƤɱŝǊɱ
By CHUCK TURK, Niceville, Florida ǄĽİĘɂɱpíƐĽŔǊşɂɱíşđɱQɱǄĘƐĘɱíƘŔĘĘƍɁɱ×Ęɥđɱ
been lying awake—the occasional
long sigh escaping from one of us—for
ĸŪƬƐƘɁɱ-ǃĘƐɱƘĽşĊĘɱǄĘɥđɱƍƬƤɱŪƬƐɱĘĽıĸƤɘ

ANIMALS AND HEALING
ǄĘĘőɘŪŔđɱıŪŔđĘşɱƐĘƤƐĽĘǃĘƐɱƤŪɱĉĘđɁ even schlepped my two dogs around

%ŪŔŔǊɱǄíƘɱƬşĉĘŔĽĘǃíĉŔǊɱíđŪƐíĉŔĘɁɱ ƤĸĘɱǄŪƐŔđɱǄĽƤĸɱŝĘɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱǄĘƐĘɱƍíƐƤɱŪİɱ
şđɱ ƬşĉĘŔĽĘǃíĉŔǊɱ ĘşĘƐıĘƤĽĊɁɱ «ĸĘɱ ƤĸĘɱİíŝĽŔǊɁ
bounded around the house and yard all píƐĽŔǊşɱ ǄŪƬŔđşɥƤɱ ıĽǃĘɱ ƬƍɁɱ ɢÝŪƬɱ
đíǊɁɱ«ĸĘɱƘĸŪƬŔđɱĸíǃĘɱĉĘĘşɱƤĽƐĘđɱĉǊɱşŪǄɁɱ őĘĘƍɱƘíǊĽşıɱǄĘɥŔŔɱıĘƤɱíɱđŪıɁɱQɱƤĸŪƬıĸƤɱ
«ĸĘɥđɱǄŪƐşɱƬƘɱŪƬƤɂɱƤĸíƤɱǄíƘɱİŪƐɱƘƬƐĘɁ ǊŪƬɱǄŪƬŔđɱıĽǃĘɱŝĘɱŪşĘɱİŪƐɱŝǊɱĉĽƐƤĸɘ
How could one little puppy make đíǊɂɱĉƬƤɱǊŪƬɱđĽđşɥƤɁɱQɱƤĸŪƬıĸƤɱǊŪƬɥđɱ
this much noise? How long was she ƘƬƐƍƐĽƘĘɱŝĘɱǄĽƤĸɱŪşĘɱíƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɂɱ
going to keep it up? ĉƬƤɱǊŪƬɱđĽđşɥƤɁɱ×ĸíƤɥƘɱƤĸĘɱƍƐŪĉŔĘŝɈɣ
píƐĽŔǊşɱíşđɱQɱĸíđɱđĘĊĽđĘđɱƤŪɱĊƐíƤĘɘ What is the problem?ɱQɱíƘőĘđɱŝǊƘĘŔİɁɱQɱ
train Dolly, partly for housebreaking ǄíƘşɥƤɱƤƐǊĽşıɱƤŪɱĉĘɱíɱŎĘƐőɁɱQɱŎƬƘƤɱşĘĘđĘđɱ
íşđɱƍíƐƤŔǊɱĉĘĊíƬƘĘɱíɱĊƐíƤĘɱǄŪƬŔđɱƍƐŪɘ íɱĉƐĘíőɁɱɱĉƐĘíőɱİƐŪŝɱƐĘƘƍŪşƘĽĉĽŔĽƤǊɁɱ
vide a safe place for our dog to rest and Marilyn and I had married late in
ıĽǃĘɱĸĘƐɱƘĘşƘĘɱŪİɱƘĘĊƬƐĽƤǊɁɱQɱǄíƘɱíşɱĽƐɱ ŔĽİĘɁɱ×ĘɱǄĘƐĘɱĽşɱĊŪŝƍŔĘƤĘɱíıƐĘĘŝĘşƤɱ
DŪƐĊĘɱǃĘƤĘƐíşɱíşđɱƐĘƤĽƐĘđɱĘşıĽşĘĘƐɁɱQɱ ŪşɱŪƬƐɱƐĘƤĽƐĘŝĘşƤɱƍŔíşƘɃɱ×ĘɱǄŪƬŔđɱ
ƬşđĘƐƘƤŪŪđɱƤĸĘɱĽŝƍŪƐƤíşĊĘɱŪİɱƘƤƐƬĊɘ ƤƐíǃĘŔɱíşđɱĘşŎŪǊɱşĘǄɱĘǉƍĘƐĽĘşĊĘƘɛ
ƤƬƐĘɱíşđɱĊŪşƘĽƘƤĘşĊǊɁɱƐíƤĘɱƤƐíĽşĽşıɱ ŎƬƘƤɱƤĸĘɱƤǄŪɱŪİɱƬƘɁɱQɱĸíđɱƐíĽƘĘđɱƤǄŪɱ
ǄŪƐőĘđɱŪşŔǊɱĽİɱǊŪƬɱƘƤƬĊőɱƤŪɱĽƤɁɱƘɱQɥđɱ ĊĸĽŔđƐĘşɱǄĽƤĸɱŝǊɱŔíƤĘɱǄĽİĘɂɱíşđɱpíƐĽɘ
ƤŪŔđɱpíƐĽŔǊşɂɱǄĘɱĸíđɱƤŪɱĸŪŔđɱǞɱƐŝɂɱşŪɱ lyn had been a single mom to three
matter how much Dolly whined and őĽđƘɱíİƤĘƐɱĸĘƐɱđĽǃŪƐĊĘɁɱrŪǄɱĽƤɱǄíƘɱŪƬƐɱ
ĊƐĽĘđɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƍƬƍƍǊɱǄŪƬŔđɱŔĘíƐşɁ ƤĽŝĘɁɱDŪƐɱíɱǄĸĽŔĘɂɱǄĘɱŔĽǃĘđɱŔĽőĘɱşĘǄŔǊɘ
×ĘɥđɱĉƐŪƬıĸƤɱĸĘƐɱĸŪŝĘɱŎƬƘƤɱİŪƬƐɱ ǄĘđƘɃɱđíƤĘɱşĽıĸƤƘɂɱ«íƤƬƐđíǊɱŝŪƐşĽşıɱ
đíǊƘɱĘíƐŔĽĘƐɁɱƬƤɱǄĽƤĸɱŝǊɱĘǉĸíƬƘƤĽŪşɂɱ ǞɱƘĸĽşıɂɱĊĸƬƐĊĸɱĊĸŪĽƐɱŪşɱ«ƬşđíǊƘɱíşđɱ
ĽƤɱİĘŔƤɱŔĽőĘɱİŪƬƐɱǄĘĘőƘɁɱQɱıƬĘƘƘɱƘŔĘĘƍɱ ƐŪŝíşƤĽĊɱƤƐĽƍƘɱıíŔŪƐĘɁɱ¸ĸĘşɂɱşŪƤɱƏƬĽƤĘɱ
deprivation and age—I was 73—will İĽǃĘɱ ǊĘíƐƘɱ ĽşƤŪɱ ŪƬƐɱ ŝíƐƐĽíıĘɂɱ píƐĽɘ
đŪɱƤĸíƤɱƤŪɱǊŪƬɁ ŔǊşɥƘɱƤĸƐĘĘɘǊĘíƐɘŪŔđɱıƐíşđƘŪşɂɱfŪıíşɂɱ
Lord, I thought, this is why I didn’t ĊíŝĘɱƤŪɱŔĽǃĘɱǄĽƤĸɱƬƘɁɱLĽƘɱƍíƐĘşƤƘɥɱƐĘŔíɘ
want to get a dog. I just don’t have it in me tionship had fallen apart, and neither
anymore to take care of one. What have I ŪİɱƤĸĘŝɱǄíƘɱƐĘíđǊɱƤŪɱƤíőĘɱĊíƐĘɱŪİɱfŪɘ
gotten myself into? ıíşɱİƬŔŔɘƤĽŝĘɁɱQƤɱǄíƘɱĸíƐđɱƤŪɱĽŝíıĽşĘɱ
DŪƐɱŝŪƐĘɱƤĸíşɱíɱǊĘíƐɂɱQɱĸíđɱƘƤƐíƤĘɘ ƐíĽƘĽşıɱíɱǊŪƬşıɱĊĸĽŔđɱĽşɱŪƬƐɱƘĽǉƤĽĘƘɁɱƬƤɱ
gically avoided Marilyn’s demands ǄĘɥđɱƍƐíǊĘđɱİŪƐɱfŪıíşɥƘɱǄĘŔŔɘĉĘĽşıɱ
İŪƐɱíɱđŪıɃɱɢĸƬĊőɂɱQɱđŪşɥƤɱƬşđĘƐƘƤíşđɁɱ since he was born, and I knew that we
ÝŪƬɥǃĘɱĸíđɱđŪıƘɱĉĘİŪƐĘɁɱÝŪƬɱŔŪǃĘɱđŪıƘɁɱ ĊŪƬŔđɱƍƐŪǃĽđĘɱíɱƘƤíĉŔĘɱĸŪŝĘɱİŪƐɱĸĽŝɁ
×ĸǊɱǄŪşɥƤɱǊŪƬɱŔĘƤɱƬƘɱıĘƤɱŪşĘɈɣ DŪƐɱƤĸĘɱşĘǉƤɱĘĽıĸƤɱǊĘíƐƘɂɱŪƬƐɱŔĽǃĘƘɱ
ɢ«ŪŝĘđíǊɂɱǄĸĘşɱƤĸĘɱƤĽŝĘɱĽƘɱƐĽıĸƤɂɣɱ ĊĘşƤĘƐĘđɱíƐŪƬşđɱfŪıíşɁɱQɱıŪƤɱĸĽŝɱĽşɘ
QɥđɱƘíǊɂɱƤĸĘşɱĊĸíşıĘɱƤĸĘɱƘƬĉŎĘĊƤɁ
ƬƤɱpíƐĽŔǊşɱǄíƘɱƤĽƐĘđɱŪİɱǄíĽƤĽşıɁɱ DOG DAYS Chuck exercises with Dolly
«ĸĘɱǄíƘɱƐĽıĸƤɛQɱĸíđɱíŔǄíǊƘɱĸíđɱđŪıƘɁɱ every day. “She’ll play ball or tug-of-war for
Heck, when I was in the Air Force, I’d hours,” he says. “It’s a lot of fun.”
ANIMALS AND HEALING
ǃŪŔǃĘđɱĽşɱƘƍŪƐƤƘɁɱ×ĘɱƘƤíƐƤĘđɱǄĽƤĸɱƤíĘɱ up getting a dog any more, I would get

kwon do, then found his favorite— ƘĽĊőɱŪİɱĽƤɁɱQɱǄíƘɱĸíǃĽşıɱƘĘĊŪşđɱƤĸŪƬıĸƤƘɁɱ
ƘŪĊĊĘƐɁɱQɱƤŪŪőɱĸĽŝɱƤŪɱĸĽƘɱƍƐíĊƤĽĊĘƘɱíşđɱ ƬƍƍĽĘƘɱíƐĘɱĸíƐđɱǄŪƐőɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱşĘĘđɱĊŪşɘ
ĘǃĘşɱđĽđɱíɱİĘǄɱƘƤĽşƤƘɱíƘɱŪíĊĸɱĸƬĊőɁɱ ƘƤíşƤɱƘƬƍĘƐǃĽƘĽŪşɁɱÝŪƬɱĊíşɥƤɱƘŔĘĘƍɱĽşɱ
ĘİŪƐĘɱ Qɱ őşĘǄɱ ĽƤɂɱ ŪƬƐɱ ǄĘĘőĘşđƘɱ ƐĘɘ íşǊŝŪƐĘɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱıĘƤɱĽşƤŪɱĘǃĘƐǊƤĸĽşıɁɱ
ǃŪŔǃĘđɱíƐŪƬşđɱĸĽƘɱıíŝĘƘɁɱ}şĘɱĉƬƘǊɱ LŪƬƘĘɱƤƐíĽşĽşıɱĊíşɱĉĘɱíɱĊĸíŔŔĘşıĘɁɱ«íŝĘɱ
«íƤƬƐđíǊɱŝŪƐşĽşıɂɱíƘɱQɱƘĘíƐĊĸĘđɱİŪƐɱ ǄĽƤĸɱŪĉĘđĽĘşĊĘɁɱŔŔɱƤĸĘɱǄíǊɱƤĸĘƐĘɂɱQɱ
his missing shin guards, I realized that ƍƐíǊĘđɱƤĸĘɱfŪƐđɱǄŪƬŔđɱıƬĽđĘɱƬƘɱƤŪɱŝíőĘɱ
ĽƤɱǄíƘɱŪőíǊɱǄĽƤĸɱŝĘɁɱQşɱİíĊƤɂɱQɱŔŪǃĘđɱĽƤɁɱ ƤĸĘɱƐĽıĸƤɱđĘĊĽƘĽŪşɁɱ«ĘĊƐĘƤŔǊɱQɱǄíƘɱĸŪƍĽşıɱ
LŪǄɱĉŔĘƘƘĘđɱǄĘɱǄĘƐĘɱƤŪɱĸíǃĘɱfŪıíşɱ ĸĘɱǄŪƬŔđɱƘíǊɂɱɢDŪƐıĘƤɱĽƤɂɱĸƬĊőɆɣ
ŔĽǃĽşıɱǄĽƤĸɱƬƘɆɱ×ĘɱĘǃĘşɱǄĘşƤɱ£ÖĽşıɱ ×ĘɱíƐƐĽǃĘđɱíƤɱƤĸĘɱĉƐĘĘđĘƐɥƘɱĸŪŝĘɁɱ
ǄĽƤĸɱĸĽŝɁɱ×íƘɱĽƤɱŝŪƐĘɱǄŪƐőɈɱÝĘƘɁɱƬƤɱ A gaggle of golden retriever puppies
ĽƤɱŝĘíşƤɱŝŪƐĘɱŎŪǊɱíşđɱǄŪşđĘƐɱƤŪŪɁ spilled out onto the porch, tripping
QşɱƤĸĘɱƘƍƐĽşıɱŪİɱǯǭǯǭɂɱfŪıíşɱŝŪǃĘđɱ ŪǃĘƐɱƤĸĘĽƐɱŪǄşɱƍíǄƘɁɱɢ}ĸɱĉŪǊɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɱ
ĽşɱǄĽƤĸɱĸĽƘɱđíđɂɱpíƐĽŔǊşɥƘɱǊŪƬşıĘƘƤɁɱ ƬşđĘƐɱŝǊɱĉƐĘíƤĸɁ
¸ĸíƤɥƘɱ ǄĸĘşɱ píƐĽŔǊşɱ ĉĘĊíŝĘɱ ĘǃĘşɱ }şĘɱŪİɱƤĸĘɱƍƬƍƘɱĊíƬıĸƤɱŝǊɱíƤƤĘşɘ
ŝŪƐĘɱƍĘƐƘĽƘƤĘşƤɱíĉŪƬƤɱıĘƤƤĽşıɱíɱđŪıɁɱ ƤĽŪşɁɱ«ĸĘɱǄíƘɱƍŪƬşĊĽşıɱíŔŔɱŪǃĘƐɱĸĘƐɱƘĽĉɘ
ɱıŪŔđĘşɱƐĘƤƐĽĘǃĘƐɂɱƤĸĘɱƬŔƤĽŝíƤĘɱđŪıɁɱ ŔĽşıƘɁɱɢ×ŪǄɂɱƤĸĽƘɱŪşĘɥƘɱıŪƤɱƘƍƬşőɆɣɱQɱ
×ĸĘşɱĸĘƐɱİƐĽĘşđƘɱƍŪƘƤĘđɱƍĸŪƤŪƘɱŪİɱƤĸĘĽƐɱ ƘíĽđɂɱƘƬƐƍƐĽƘĘđɱíƤɱŝǊɱƐĘíĊƤĽŪşɁɱ×Ęɱĸíđɱ
goldens on Facebook, Marilyn would ŪƬƐɱƘĸŪĘƘɱŪİİɂɱíşđɱƘƬđđĘşŔǊɱƤĸĘɱƍƬƍɘ
ƘĸŪǃĘɱƤĸĘɱƍĽĊƤƬƐĘƘɱĽşɱŝǊɱİíĊĘɁɱɢfŪŪőɱ py lunged and started wrestling with
ĸŪǄɱĊƬƤĘɆɣɱƘĸĘɥđɱƘíǊɁɱɢQɱǄíşƤɱŪşĘɁɣ píƐĽŔǊşɥƘɱƘŪĊőɁɱ¸ĸĘşɱƘĸĘɱıƐŪǄŔĘđɅíƤɱ
QɱđĽđşɥƤɁɱLord, I’m done caregiving, I ƤĸĘɱƘŪĊőɁɱQƤɱǄíƘɱƘŪɱİƬşşǊɁ
ƤĸŪƬıĸƤɁɱPeople, pets…I’m tapped out. ɢ«ĸĘɱŔĽőĘƘɱǊŪƬɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɱƤŪɱpíƐĽŔǊşɁ
Marilyn had come into our marriage “More important, I think you like
ǄĽƤĸɱíşɱŪŔđɱĊíƤɄɱQɥđɱĸíđɱŝǊɱíıĽşıɱđŪıɁɱ ĸĘƐɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƐĘƘƍŪşđĘđɁɱɢÝŪƬɥƐĘɱƘŝĽŔĽşıɁɣ
ŪƤĸɱĸíđɱđĽĘđɁɱ¸ĸĘşɱǄĘɥđɱƤíőĘşɱĊíƐĘɱ QƤɱǄíƘɱƤƐƬĘɁɱQɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱĸĘŔƍɱĽƤɁɱǊɱƤĸĘɱ
ŪİɱĸĘƐɱƘŪşɥƘɱĊíƤɱđƬƐĽşıɱĽƤƘɱǞɱşíŔɱǊĘíƐƘɁ time we picked up Dolly three weeks
At long last, I was going to get my ŔíƤĘƐɂɱQɱĸíđɱƤŪɱíđŝĽƤɛQɱǄíƘɱĘǉĊĽƤĘđɁ
ǄĽİĘɱíŔŔɱƤŪɱŝǊƘĘŔİɁɱLíŔŔĘŔƬŎíĸɆ İƤĘƐɱİŪƬƐɱƘŔĘĘƍŔĘƘƘɱşĽıĸƤƘɂɱƤĸĘɱĘǉɘ
píƐĽŔǊşɱƘíĽđɱƘĸĘɱǄíƘɱĘǉĊĽƤĘđɱíĉŪƬƤɱ ĊĽƤĘŝĘşƤɱĸíđɱİíđĘđɁɱpǊɱĊŔŪĊőɱƐĘíđɱ
ĸíǃĽşıɱƤŪıĘƤĸĘƐɱƤĽŝĘɱíıíĽşɂɱŎƬƘƤɱƤĸĘɱ 4 A.M.ɱşŪƤĸĘƐɱǄĸĽşĘɂɱƤĸĘşɱǄĸĽŝƍĘƐƘɁɱ
ƤǄŪɱŪİɱƬƘɁɱÝĘƤɱƘĸĘɱǄŪƬŔđşɥƤɱŔĘƤɱıŪɱŪİɱƤĸĘɱ QɱƤĸƐĘǄɱĉíĊőɱƤĸĘɱĊŪǃĘƐƘɱíşđɱıŪƤɱƬƍɁ
ĽđĘíɱŪİɱıĘƤƤĽşıɱíɱıŪŔđĘşɱƐĘƤƐĽĘǃĘƐɱƍƬƍƍǊɁ ɢ×ĸíƤɱ íƐĘɱ ǊŪƬɱ đŪĽşıɈɣɱ píƐĽŔǊşɱ
I wanted my wife to be happy— ǄĸĽƘƍĘƐĘđɁɱ Qɱ ƘĸŪŪőɱ ŝǊɱ ĸĘíđɱ íşđɱ
after all, God had brought her to me— ǄíŔőĘđɱŪƬƤɱƤŪɱpíƐĽŔǊşɥƘɱŪİǞɱĊĘɁɱ
ƘŪɱQɱƐĘŔĘşƤĘđɁɱ}şĘɱǄĘĘőĘşđɂɱǄĘɱŝíđĘɱíɱ As soon as she heard me, Dolly
İŪƬƐɘĸŪƬƐɱƤƐĽƍɱƤŪɱǃĽƘĽƤɱíɱĉƐĘĘđĘƐɁɱŪƤĸɱŪİɱ threw herself against the door of her
ƬƘɱǄĘƐĘɱƏƬĽĘƤɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱđƐĽǃĘɱŪǃĘƐɁɱpíƐĽŔǊşɱ ĊƐíƤĘɁɱQɱƘƍƐƬşıɱĸĘƐɱİƐŪŝɱĽƤɂɱíşđɱƘĸĘɱ
was probably worried that if she talked ƘĊƐíŝĉŔĘđɱĽşƤŪɱŝǊɱíƐŝƘɁ

ǄíŔőƘɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱđíǊɁɱ
I take Dolly to the dog
park, but mostly we head
İŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǄŪŪđƘɁɱ«ĸĘɱŔŪǃĘƘɱ
to tromp around near the
lake behind our house;
she splashes in the water
İŪƐɱíƘɱŔŪşıɱíƘɱQɥŔŔɱŔĘƤɱĸĘƐɁɱ
At home, she’ll play ball
ŪƐɱƤƬıɘŪİɘǄíƐɱİŪƐɱĸŪƬƐƘɁɱ
ɢfŪŪőɱíƤɱƤĸĽƘɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɱƤŪɱ
Marilyn a couple months
íİƤĘƐɱ%ŪŔŔǊɱĊíŝĘɁɱQɱƍƬŔŔĘđɱ
at the loose waist of my
ŎĘíşƘɁɱ ×ĽƤĸɱ ƤĸĘɱ ǄíŔőƘɱ
íşđɱƍŔíǊɂɱQɱǄíƘɱĘǉĘƐĊĽƘĽşıɱ
ŝŪƐĘɱƤĸíşɱQɱĸíđɱĽşɱǊĘíƐƘɁ
TOGETHER TIME Chuck and Marilyn have ¸ĸíƤɥƘɱşŪƤɱƤĸĘɱŪşŔǊɱĉĘşĘǞɱƤɱƤŪɱĸíǃĽşıɱ
bonded with their golden retriever. %ŪŔŔǊɁɱpíƐĽŔǊşɱíşđɱQɱĸíǃĘɱıƐŪǄşɱĘǃĘşɱ
ĊŔŪƘĘƐɁɱŔŝŪƘƤɱĘǃĘƐǊɱđíǊɂɱƤĸĘɱƤĸƐĘĘɱŪİɱ
us go for a walk—it’s our together
ɢÝŪƬɥƐĘɱŪőíǊɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɁɱɢQɥŝɱƐĽıĸƤɱĸĘƐĘɁɣɱ
QɱıíǃĘɱĸĘƐɱíɱƏƬĽĊőɱĊƬđđŔĘɱĉĘİŪƐĘɱĊíƐɘ ƤĽŝĘɁɱ}İƤĘşɱ%ŪŔŔǊɱǄĽŔŔɱŔƬşıĘɱĽşƤŪɱƤĸĘɱ
rying her and dragging the crate into ĉƬƘĸĘƘɁɱɢ×ĸíƤɥƘɱƘĸĘɱíİƤĘƐɱşŪǄɈɣɱpíƐĽɘ
ŪƬƐɱĉĘđƐŪŪŝɁ ŔǊşɱǄĽŔŔɱƘíǊɁɱɱŔĽǔíƐđɈɱɱƘƏƬĽƐƐĘŔɈɱɱĉƬıɈɱ
ɢÝŪƬɱĊíŔŔɱƤĸĽƘɱĸŪŔđĽşıɱǞɱƐŝɈɣɱpíƐĽɘ ɱǄíǊǄíƐđɱŔĘíİɈɱ×ĘɱĊíşɥƤɱĸĘŔƍɱĉƬƤɱ
ŔǊşɱƘíĽđɂɱĸĽđĽşıɱíɱƘŝĽŔĘɅíşđɱíɱǊíǄşɁ laugh as we watch our dog’s backside
I set Dolly down and put the crate inwiggling under a bush, her youthful
íɱĊŪƐşĘƐɁɱɢíĊőɱƤŪɱǊŪƬƐɱĊƐíƤĘɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɁ ĘşĘƐıǊɱƐƬĉĉĽşıɱŪİİɱŪşɱƬƘɱíɱĉĽƤɁɱ
«ĸĘɱŔŪŪőĘđɱƬƍɱíƤɱŝĘɂɱĸĘƐɱĉĽıɱƍƬƍƍǊɱ QɥđɱƤĸŪƬıĸƤɱQɱǄíƘɱƤíƍƍĘđɱŪƬƤɁɱƬƤɱ
ĘǊĘƘɱĉĘƘĘĘĊĸĽşıɁɱ God keeps surprising me, bringing
ɢƐíƤĘɂɣɱQɱƏƬĽĘƤŔǊɱƐĘƍĘíƤĘđɁ ŝĘɱŔŪǃĘɱíşđɱŎŪǊɱQɱşĘǃĘƐɱĘǉƍĘĊƤĘđɁɱ×ĽƤĸɱ
Dolly stared at me for a minute or píƐĽŔǊşɂɱƤĸĘşɱfŪıíşɱíşđɱşŪǄɱ%ŪŔŔǊɁɱ
ƤǄŪɂɱƤĸĘşɱǄíŔőĘđɱĽşƤŪɱĸĘƐɱĊƐíƤĘɁɱ¸ĸĽƘɱ ×ĘɥƐĘɱíĉŪƬƤɱƤŪɱĘŝĉíƐőɱŪşɱŪƬƐɱǞɱƐƘƤɱ
ƤĽŝĘɱƘĸĘɱƘĘƤƤŔĘđɱđŪǄşɱĽŝŝĘđĽíƤĘŔǊɁ £ÖɱƤƐĽƍɱǄĽƤĸɱ%ŪŔŔǊɁɱQɱĊíşɥƤɱǄíĽƤɱƤŪɱƘĘĘɱ
QɱĊŔĽŝĉĘđɱĉíĊőɱĽşɱĉĘđɂɱƘŝĽŔĽşıɁɱQɥđɱ what adventures the three of us get
engineeredɱíɱƘŪŔƬƤĽŪşɁɱpíǊĉĘɱQɱđĽđɱĸíǃĘɱĽşƤŪɁɱİƤĘƐɱíŔŔɂɱƐĘƤĽƐĘŝĘşƤɱĸíƘɱƘŪɱİíƐɱĉĘĘşɱ
one big adventure, one I didn’t plan but
ĽƤɱĽşɱŝĘɱƤŪɱƤíőĘɱĊíƐĘɱŪİɱíɱđŪıɱíİƤĘƐɱíŔŔɁ
}ƬƐɱ đíĽŔǊɱ ƐŪƬƤĽşĘɱ ĸíƘɱ ĊĸíşıĘđɱ ǄŪƬŔđşɥƤɱĊĸíşıĘɱĘǃĘşɱĽİɱQɱĊŪƬŔđɁɱɱ
ƘĽşĊĘɱ ƤĸĘşɁɱ Qɱ ıĘƤɱ Ƭƍɱ íƤɱ İĽǃĘɱ ƤŪɱ İĘĘđɱ
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STORY OF A SONG
Mary, Did You Know?

By ROBERTA MESSNER, Contributing Editor
W
hen aspiring gospel singer That holiday season, Michael English
Mark Lowry was asked to debuted the song, and it has since be-
write the script for a church come a Christmas classic, recorded by
Christmas program in 1984, he talked hundreds of artists, including Clay Ai-
over ideas with his mom. “If anyone ken, Carrie Underwood, Dolly Parton,
on earth knew for sure that Jesus was as a duet by Kenny Rogers and Wy-
virgin-born, Mary knew,” she said. nonna Judd, and even Mark himself.
That simple observation lit up Mark’s Mark’s lyrics invite the listener to
imagination. “I began writing a list of contemplate the mysteries of Mary
questions I would like to ask Mary if I and her newborn son and to celebrate
could sit down with her,” he says. the eternal promise of Christmas: Did
The words that have stirred the you know that your baby boy has come to
hearts of millions around the world make you new?
soon followed: Mary, did
you know that your baby boy
will one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know that your
baby boy will save our sons
and daughters?
For seven years, Mark
carried those questions
with him while launching
his career. In 1991, he asked
songwriter Buddy Greene
to come up with a melody
for the lyrics. The result
was “Mary, Did You Know?”
COURTESY MARK LOWRY
A CHRISTMAS CLASSIC
Mark’s song has appeared on
Billboard’s Holiday, Christian,
Hot 100 and R&B charts.
BUILDING STRONGER FAMILIES
M
y daughter, Bekah, called
me from soccer practice.
“Mom, I think I did it
again!” she said, sobbing.
“My knee snapped just like last time,
íşđɱQɱĊŪŔŔíƍƘĘđɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱǞɱĘŔđɁɱ¸ĸĽƘɱĊíşɥƤɱ
be happening!”
Bekah was a senior in high school.
Her dream was to play in college. She
had suffered a severe knee injury—a
complete tear of her right anterior
cruciate ligament—one year earlier
and battled back from surgery.
Her doctors had called her a model
patient and declared her ready to play.
EĘƤƤĽşıɱĉíĊőɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱǞɱĘŔđɱĸíđɱĉĘĘşɱíɱ
gift from God in the midst of the pan-
demic, as teens everywhere struggled
with isolation and the loss of routines.
Trust
Bekah was right. How could this be
happening?
ɢQɥŝɱĊŪŝĽşıɱíƘɱİíƘƤɱíƘɱQɱĊíşɂɣɱQɱƘíĽđɁɱ
Over
ɢ%ŪşɥƤɱİĘíƐɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐƘƤɁɣ
My words were as much for me as
ƤĸĘǊɱǄĘƐĘɱİŪƐɱŝǊɱđíƬıĸƤĘƐɁɱĘőíĸɥƘɱĽşɘ
Fear
jury had been a huge parenting chal-
lenge for my husband, Cory, and me.
QƤɱǄíƘşɥƤɱŎƬƘƤɱƤĸĘɱƘŪĊĊĘƐɄɱĽƤɱǄíƘɱƤĸĘɱ
ĘŝŪƤĽŪşíŔɱĘİİĘĊƤɁɱĘőíĸɥƘɱđĘƍƐĘƘƘĽŪşɱ
took us by surprise. She holed up in
DŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɂɱ her room and became listless and
ŝǊɱđíƬıĸƤĘƐɱǄíƘɱđĘíŔĽşıɱ withdrawn. She even stopped singing,
ƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱƘĸĘɥđɱíŔǄíǊƘɱđŪşĘɱǄĸĘşɱ
ǄĽƤĸɱíɱƍƐŪĉŔĘŝɱQɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱ
PHOTOS BY CORY O’NEILL
absorbed in something she loved.

ǞɱǉɁɱƬƤɱƤĸĘƐĘɱǄíƘɱŪşĘɱ Nothing I said seemed to make a dif-
ƤĸĽşıɱQɱĊŪƬŔđɱđŪ ference. She walled me out.
By JULIE O’NEILL LETTING GO Julie (left) let God guide her

Deschutes County, Oregon daughter Bekah’s healing.
ĘőíĸɥƘɱĸĘíŔĽşıɱĸíđɱĉĘĘşɱƤĸĘɱíşɘ “How are you doing in there, sweet-

swer to a lot of prayers. She had re- heart?” I asked through the door.
covered faster and stronger than doc- “Fine.”
tors predicted. Looking forward to “I know this is hard for you.” Silence.
the possibility of playing in the fall ɢ×ĘɥƐĘɱƍƐíǊĽşıɱİŪƐɱǊŪƬɁɱÝŪƬɥƐĘɱıŪĽşıɱ
had kept her going through the early to get through this.” More silence.
months of Covid lockdown. She was often more open with Cory,
It felt like a God story. But God sto- ĉƬƤɱ ĘǃĘşɱ ĸĘɱ đĽđşɥƤɱ ĸíǃĘɱ ŝƬĊĸɱ Ūİɱ íɱ
ƐĽĘƘɱíƐĘşɥƤɱƘƬƍƍŪƘĘđɱƤŪɱĘşđɱǄĽƤĸɱíşɘ window on her feelings this time.
other injury just weeks after the start ɢQɥŝɱǄŪƐƐĽĘđɱƘĸĘɥƘɱıŪĽşıɱƤŪɱıŪɱĉíĊőɱ
of soccer season. What would this do into that bad place,” I said.
to her emotionally? ɢ«ĘĘŝƘɱ ŔĽőĘɱ ƘĸĘɥƘɱ íŔƐĘíđǊɱ ƤĸĘƐĘɂɣɱ
Bekah was distraught when I got to Cory replied.
ƤĸĘɱǞɱĘŔđɁɱɢQɱŎƬƘƤɱőşŪǄɱQɱƐĘĽşŎƬƐĘđɱĽƤɂɣɱ He and I made two big decisions.
ƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɁɱɢQƤɱĸƬƐƤƘɱƘŪɱĉíđɆɱQɥŔŔɱĉĘɱŪƬƤɱƤĸĘɱ Because surgery had not prevented
ǄĸŪŔĘɱƘĘíƘŪşɁɱQɱǄŪşɥƤɱŝíőĘɱíɱĊŪŔŔĘıĘɱ a reinjury, we did not want to put
ƤĘíŝɁɱpŪŝɂɱĽƤɥƘɱŪǃĘƐɆɣ Bekah through such an ordeal again.
I fumbled for reassuring words, We did some research and learned
but Bekah just stared straight ahead about a less invasive procedure, one
ǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱƘíŝĘɱđĘƘŪŔíƤĘɱĘǉƍƐĘƘƘĽŪşɱQɥđɱ that uses stem cells to encourage heal-
learned to fear a year earlier. ing of the damaged tissue. We made
şɱp£QɱĊŪşǞɱƐŝĘđɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐƘƤɁɱĘőíĸɱ an appointment.
had torn not only her ACL again but And we signed up our daughter for
also her meniscus, a layer of cartilage counseling with a Christian therapist.
in the knee. ¸ĸĘƐĘɱíƐĘɱƘŪŝĘɱŝĘşƤíŔɱĸĘíŔƤĸɱĽƘƘƬĘƘɱ
¸ĸĘɱđŪĊƤŪƐɱđĽđşɥƤɱƘŪƬşđɱĘşĊŪƬƐíıɘ that only a professional can resolve.
ing about a return to soccer. Or tennis, I feared Bekah was heading toward a
another sport Bekah loved. Or cross- faith crisis too.
country skiing, something we liked to ¸ĸĘɱƘƤĘŝɱĊĘŔŔɱƍƐŪĊĘđƬƐĘɱǄíƘɱƘƤƐíĽıĸƤɘ
do as a family with her older brother, forward, but recovery was awful at
Cade. “You might not be built for any- ǞɱƐƘƤɁɱĘőíĸɥƘɱőşĘĘɱƘǄĘŔŔĘđɱĸŪƐƐĽĉŔǊɱ
thing with strenuous side-to-side for about a week, and she was in ex-
movement,” the doctor said. cruciating pain.
ɢQɱǄíƘşɥƤɱĘǃĘşɱƍŔíǊĽşıɱĸíƐđɂɣɱĘőíĸɱ I sat by her bed and tried to com-
said bitterly. “Just running down the fort her. “Everyone is praying for you.
field. I stepped to the side, and the ×ĘɥƐĘɱıŪĽşıɱƤŪɱıĘƤɱƤĸƐŪƬıĸɱƤĸĽƘɁɣ
şĘǉƤɱƤĸĽşıɱQɱőşŪǄɂɱQɥŝɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱıƐŪƬşđɁɱ ɢ×ĸíƤɥƘɱ ƤĸĘɱ ƍŪĽşƤɱ Ūİɱ ƍƐíǊĽşıɱ Ľİɱ
All that work for nothing!” EŪđɱđŪĘƘşɥƤɱŔĽƘƤĘşɈɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɂɱíđđɘ
She disappeared into her bedroom Ľşıɂɱɢ%ŪşɥƤɱĊƐǊɱŔĽőĘɱƤĸíƤɂɱpŪŝɁɱQƤɱŎƬƘƤɱ
as soon as we returned home. makes me feel worse.”

őĽđƘɥɱƍƐŪĉŔĘŝƘɁɱDŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɂɱŝǊɱ
daughter faced a problem I simply
ĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱǞɱǉɁɱQɱİĘŔƤɱĸĘŔƍŔĘƘƘɁ
A few days later, I took one of my fa-
vorite hikes, up a butte outside town.
I needed to clear my head and pray.
¸ĸĘɱƘƬşɱƐŪƘĘɱĽşɱíɱĊŔĘíƐɱĉŔƬĘɱƘőǊɁɱ¸ĸĘɱ
air was crisp and fresh. My prayers
turned into an argument with God.
I’m losing my daughter, and you’re not
helping. Tell me what to do to make her
better. I feel like a failure as a mom.
I reached the top of the butte. I gazed
around, the only person there. In one
direction, the city spread out below. In
the other, snow-covered mountains
KINDRED SPIRITS Julie and Bekah share a ƐŪƘĘɱƤŪǄíƐđɱƤĸĘɱ¸ĸƐĘĘɱ«ĽƘƤĘƐƘɂɱƤĸĘɱíƘɘ
love of the outdoors. ĊíđĘƘɥɱĸĽıĸɱǃŪŔĊíşĽĊɱƍĘíőƘɁ
A deep peace came over me, some-
“What would help you? How about ƤĸĽşıɱ Qɱ ĸíđşɥƤɱ İĘŔƤɱ ƘĽşĊĘɱ ƤĸĘɱ đíǊɱ Ūİɱ
ĊŪƬşƘĘŔĽşıɈɱLŪǄɥƘɱƤĸíƤɱıŪĽşıɈɣ ĘőíĸɥƘɱĽşŎƬƐǊɁɱpǊɱŝĽşđɱǄíƘɱĊŔĘíƐɁɱ
“Fine.” «ƤŪƍɰƤƐǊĽşıɰƤŪɰǝɰǉɰƤĸĽşıƘɁ God seemed
“Is it helping?” to say. Trust me. Trust your daughter.
ɢQɱƘíĽđɱĽƤɥƘɱǞɱşĘɁɱfŪŪőɂɱĊíşɱǊŪƬɱŎƬƘƤɱ Let her deal with this in her own way. I
leave me alone?” am with her.
I kept waiting for the milestone that Her own way? Bekah was only 17!
would bring back our healthy, happy ¸ŪŪɱǊŪƬşıɱƤŪɱĸíşđŔĘɱƘŪŝĘƤĸĽşıɱƘŪɱĉĽıɁ
daughter. Bekah started walking with Yet maybe God was stating the obvi-
crutches, then gradually transitioned ous. Cory and I had done all we could
to walking on her own. She did physi- think of. My meddling and probing
cal therapy to rebuild muscles. I often ĊŔĘíƐŔǊɱǄĘƐĘɱĉíĊőǞɱƐĽşıɁɱ×ĸíƤɱǄŪƬŔđɱ
caught her staring at her right leg, happen if I let God take the lead?
which had atrophied since the injury. Just thinking that deepened the peace
In February, her doctor pronounced in my heart. A sense of hope welled up.
her healed and said she could run, Bekah is going to get through this. She is
hike and ride a bike. But no soccer. going to thrive. She will hang on to God,
I wanted to celebrate at dinner. and he will put her on a good path.
Bekah ate glumly, then disappeared Over the following weeks, I did my
into her room. best to treat Bekah as if she knew what
pǊɱĽşƘƤĽşĊƤɱíƘɱíɱŝŪŝɱǄíƘɱƤŪɱǞɱǉɱŝǊɱ she was doing.
Instead of obsessing over her latest I did my best to keep my cool. I took
ĊƬƐƤɱƐĘƍŔǊɂɱQɱƐĘŝĘŝĉĘƐĘđɱƤĸĘɱƘƍíƐőɱQɥđɱ a deep breath and looked inside:
seen in her when Cade had come home
from college for the holidays with a It’s a strange kind of grief to have to let
very Cade suggestion: “Since Bekah go of something you’d planned on in the
ĊíşɥƤɱƘőĽɂɱŔĘƤɥƘɱƤƐǊɱƘşŪǄŝŪĉĽŔĽşıɁɣ İƬƤƬƐĘɁɰıƐĽĘǃĽşıɰƤĸĘɰĘǉƍĘƐĽĘşĊĘƘɰǊŪƬɤŔŔɰ
Cade found a couple cheap used never have. I’d like to say that I immedi-
snowmobiles, and he and Cory got ately turned to God and felt his strength
ƤĸĘŝɱǄŪƐőĽşıɁɱQɥŝɱşŪƤɱíɱĉĽıɱİíşɱŪİɱƤíőɘ ǠɰŪŪđɰŝĘɀɰƬƤɰƤĸĘɰƤƐƬƤĸɰĽƘɁɰQɰǄíƘɰƤŪŪɰ
ing loud machines into the backcoun- íşıƐǊɀɰQɰŪƘĊĽŔŔíƤĘđɰĉĘƤǄĘĘşɰŝƬƘƤĘƐĽşıɰƬƍɰ
try, but Bekah came alive out there in my own strength to prove to the world I
íɱǄíǊɱQɱĸíđşɥƤɱƘĘĘşɱĽşɱíıĘƘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱŝŪŪđɱ wasn’t weak and feeling frustrated at my
ŔĽİƤɱǄíƘşɥƤɱƍĘƐŝíşĘşƤɂɱĉƬƤɱŝíǊĉĘɱĽƤɱ failure to be strong. I also tried therapy,
was a sign of things to come. and now I realize that healing my mind
One day, I noticed her bedroom is just as important as healing my body.
door was open. I peeked in and saw That was when I began to see the bless-
her bent over her desk, writing. I heard ĽşıƘɰƤĸíƤɰđĽđşɤƤɰƤíőĘɰƤĸĘɰƘĸíƍĘɰŪİɰíɰƘŪĊĊĘƐɰ
a soft sound. She was singing a praise ĉíŔŔɀɰQɰǄíƘɰİŪƐĊĘđɰƤŪɰƐĘŔǊɰŪşɰEŪđɁɰİŪƐɰŪşŔǊɰ
song to herself! Soon I was hearing ĸĘɰĊŪƬŔđɰƤíőĘɰĊíƐĘɰŪİɰƤĸĘɰƤĸĽşıƘɰŪƬƤɰŪİɰŝǊɰ
that sound all over the house. ĊŪşƤƐŪŔɀɰ¸ĸĽƘɰƤĽŝĘɁɰǄĸĘşɰƤĸĘɰđŪĊƤŪƐɰƘíĽđɰQɰ
Bekah took up running in the after- was healed, it didn’t feel like a milestone,
noons and sometimes met up with ĉĘĊíƬƘĘɰEŪđɰíŔƐĘíđǊɰĸíđɰŝĘɰƐĽıĸƤɰǄĸĘƐĘɰ
friends from the soccer team. She I was supposed to be. What I learned was
spent a lot of time on her college ap- ƤŪɰĉĘɰƘŪɰĽşĊƐĘđĽĉŔǊɰıƐíƤĘİƬŔɰİŪƐɰƤĸĘɰƤĸĽşıƘɰ
plications, plus additional applica- God has given me right now, not what I
tions for scholarships. Most of the think he’s going to give me in the future.
stress she complained about now re-
lated to school, not her knee. I closed the journal and, despite my
“Guess what?” she said as the end vow to back off, grabbed Bekah for a
of her senior year approached. “I was ĸƬıĘɱĸƬıɁɱ¸ĸĘƐĘɱǄíƘɱƘŪɱŝƬĊĸɱQɱǄíşƤɘ
named salutatorian for my class.” ĘđɱƤŪɱƘíǊɱƤŪɱĸĘƐɁɱ¸ĸĘƐĘɱǄŪƬŔđɱĉĘɱƤĽŝĘɱ
College acceptances rolled in. One for that later.
of her top choices, Oregon State, For now, all I could do was thank
awarded her scholarship money for God for staying true to his word, as
íŔŔɱĸĘƐɱǞɱƐƘƤɱǊĘíƐɥƘɱĘǉƍĘşƘĘƘɁ he always does. He had helped me set
It was summer when Bekah casu- aside my fears and see—and trust—
ally said one day, “Hey, Mom, I wrote Bekah through his eyes. I loved what I
down some things about my injury saw more than ever.
experience. Want to read?” She hand- My daughter truly was healed. And
ed me a journal. so was I.

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TRAVELS FROM THE HEART
Christmas in
Nairobi We were stranded in Kenya
for the holidays. Could we really
celebrate this far from home?
By EDWINA PERKINS, Cary, North Carolina
“
T
hat doesn’t look anything It was different, all right. Back
like our Christmas tree at home, we’d be juggling a month-long
home,” said Austin, one of our calendar full of parties and outings for
10-year-old twins. the kids. Each year, I wished we could
“I know,” I said, adjusting the green slow down, yet things only seemed to
garland I’d taped to the wall in our get busier as our children grew older.
small rented apartment in Nairobi, ×ĘŔŔɂɱĽƤɱǄíƘɱđĘǞɱşĽƤĘŔǊɱƘŔŪǄɱƤĸĽƘɱǊĘíƐɁɱ
Kenya. Weeks earlier, we had trav- I was worried. Would our children be
eled there from our home in Orlando, able to embrace the changes to their
Florida, on a mission trip to work at a holiday season? Would I?
conference. I stood back and checked Our oldest, 16-year-old Danielle,
the garland. Did it look more like the tried to help me tape the carved el-
outline of a Christmas tree now? ephant ornaments we’d bought at an
Anderson, the other twin, pointed open market to the tree on the wall,
to the yellow construction paper star but when they fell off for the third
on top. “The star’s crooked.” time, we gave up.
“Why couldn’t we go home for Each child placed the brown-paper-
PHOTOS BY GRANT HALVERSON
Christmas, Mom?” 14-year-old Gar- wrapped presents they’d bought at

rett asked. “I miss doing all the fun the market beneath the little make-
holiday stuff with my friends.” shift tree. With limited space in our
ɢ×ĘɱĊŪƬŔđşɥƤɱıĘƤɱíɱǡɱĽıĸƤɱĉíĊőɱİŪƐɱíŔŔɱ suitcases, the many gifts they usually
six of us in time,” my husband, David, received were reduced to one, a small
said. “It may be a little different, but one. “This will have to do,” I said.
we’re still having Christmas.” We ended up heading to a church

option; that was some-
thing I missed too.
The church members
greeted us with warm
smiles and handshakes.
Many Kenyan women
wore dresses more bril-
liantly colored than any
I’d ever seen. I saw rows
and rows of beautiful
brown faces, maybe 300
in all. At that moment, it
struck me that our fam-
ily was not in the minor-
ity for once. At home this
was not the case. In our
jobs, church, neighbor-
hood and even the kids’
homeschool communi-
ty, we were always part
of the minority culture.
Here in Nairobi, we were
surrounded by people
who looked like us.
We made our way to
open seats on a cement
bench. People around
us chatted in English.
¸ĸĘɱŪİǞɱĊĽíŔɱŔíşıƬíıĘƘɱŪİɱ
in an open-air stadium that we had Kenya are English and Swahili. The
heard about from local missionaries. pastor, dressed in a suit of yellow,
I longed for the candlelight service green and black, stepped to the mi-
with familiar Christmas songs at our crophone and began speaking. I stud-
church in Orlando. I wanted to see ied the empty stable behind him. No
ŝǊɱİƐĽĘşđƘɱíşđɱƤĸĘɱİĘƘƤĽǃĘɱŪƬƤǞɱƤƘɱƤĸĘǊɱ Joseph, Mary or Baby Jesus. No elabo-
wore for the holidays. By the time we rate reenactment of the birth of Christ.
arrived at the stadium, it was uncom-
fortably hot. Sweat beaded along my FOND MEMORIES Ornaments from Nairobi
hairline. Air-conditioning was not an remind Edwina of that special Christmas.
so large, I wondered how they stayed
on. Each carried a gift box covered in
jewels. Next came camels, sheep and
several shepherds. Once Mary, Joseph
and the baby were in place, a wise man
stepped to the microphone. “Here is
the story of our Savior.”
When a slight breeze wafted through
the stadium, I could smell the animals.
×íƘɱƤĸĽƘɱǄĸíƤɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱĸƐĽƘƤŝíƘɱĸíđɱ
been like, in that little stable in Bethle-
hem? As I listened to the voices of the
people in the play and the cries of the
baby, I was moved in a way I hadn’t
expected to be. God had given me the
opportunity to embrace the Christ-
mas story in a country halfway around
A KENYAN HOLIDAY TOUCH Edwina’s the world. My heart swelled with awe.
kids agreed that an elephant needed to be After the ceremony, we headed to
part of the Christmas story.
the kids’ favorite outdoor restaurant.
Danielle, Garrett, Austin and Ander-
My heart sank a little. My home church son chatted excitedly in the back seat.
celebrated with lights and production They all agreed an elephant needed to
elements worthy of Broadway. be part of the Christmas story.
The pastor’s words drew me back. Our driver, Barnabas, glanced in the
“Why am I telling you the story of mirror and said, “Such small pleasures
Jesus? Let us show you.” He stepped bring your children joy.”
B
away from the stage.
Trumpets blared, and we all jumped. ut would the kids be okay with-
Actors playing Mary and Joseph led out the Christmas dinner they
a processional, with Mary holding a were used to? No ham or tur-
real baby in her arms. They were fol- őĘǊɱǄĽƤĸɱíŔŔɱƤĸĘɱǞɱǉĽşıƘɁɱrŪɱƍŔíƤĘƘɱŪİɱ
lowed by a dozen musicians playing Christmas cookies. Our meal con-
horns and different kinds of drums. sisted of burgers and fries—or chips,
After they rounded the far end of the as the Kenyans called them—served
stadium, a rider came into view seat- in plastic baskets lined with red-and-
ed on an elephant. The kids leaped to white-checkered paper. We invited
their feet. My mouth dropped open. Barnabas to join us.
An elephant? Wise men entered in Boy, was I surprised when Austin
elaborate costumes and headpieces said, “This is the best Christmas din-

TRAVELS FROM THE HEART
ner ever!” Danielle, Garrett and An- my family. The experience helped me
derson nodded in agreement, their slow down and really value people
mouths too full to speak. during a season that is often driven
Barnabas chuckled. “Christmas is by activities. Sometimes that means
best celebrated with good food and saying no to events. Each year, as we
time with family and friends. We fo- hang the carved elephant ornaments
cus on being in each other’s presence, on our tree, I think about Barnabas’s
not on the presents we can give. God words. Presents aren’t that important.
is good to us.” What truly matters is being in each
That Christmas in Nairobi changed other’s presence, with God’s presence
the way I celebrate the holidays with over us all.
“I follow the sun as it comes in the windows. I learned

DAILY DO
this from my yellow Lab. There’s nothing like the warmth

of the sun to make me feel alive and yet at peace.”
—CAROLYN MANDARANO, Editor
Annie’s
Way I hoped a manicure
would change my day.
I didn’t know it
would change much
more than that
By ROBERTA MESSNER, Huntington, West Virginia
I
wrapped my hands around my and have them ask how I was doing,
coffee mug and sank into my sofa, so I made an appointment at a salon
trying to let the stress of dealing I had never been to. Annie, the owner,
with my mountain of troubles answered the phone and said that she
seep out of me. Instead, my eyes land- would be taking care of me.
ĘđɱŪşɱŝǊɱǞɱşıĘƐşíĽŔƘɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱǄĘƐĘɱƬıŔǊɱ With a name like Annie, I wasn’t
and ragged. expecting the Asian lady with the
As ragged as my spirit was these silky black braid who came up to me
days. My long-awaited retirement and introduced herself. “So happy to
wasn’t working out the way I had meet you, Roberta,” she said, leading
planned. A series of medical crises me to her workstation. It wasn’t just
had left me dependent on prescription her smile that was radiant. It was her
ŪƍĽŪĽđƘɱíşđɱđĘĘƍɱĽşɱđĘĉƤɁɱ¸ĸŪƬıĸɱQɥđɱ whole being. She seemed overjoyed at
ǞɱşíŔŔǊɱĊŪşƏƬĘƐĘđɱƤĸĘɱíđđĽĊƤĽŪşɂɱQɱƐĘɘ the prospect of painting my nails. She
mained buried in debt—and shame. must really like her job, I thought.
PHOTOS BY SCOTT GOLDSMITH
I’d never felt so hopeless. While Annie was gathering her

Maybe a manicure would give me a supplies, I overheard a conversation
little lift, make my day better. I hadn’t
been treating myself to anything late-
NAILED IT Annie connects with customers
ly, but it was one indulgence I could at her popular nail salon. Roberta (center, left),
still afford, even on my strict budget. I a regular, says, “Once I met Annie, I found
didn’t want to run into anyone I knew out what my Christian faith meant to me.”

POSITIVE PEOPLE
POSITIVE PEOPLE
ĉĘƤǄĘĘşɱƤǄŪɱŪİɱĸĘƐɱĊƬƘƤŪŝĘƐƘɁɱ¸ĸĘɱ by my lonesome at my kitchen table.”

one who was recovering from a stroke “Stories?” Annie exclaimed. “Fa-
showed off her icy blue nail color. “An- vorite thing! I tell you my story.” She
şĽĘɱƘíǊƘɱƤĸĽƘɱĽƘɱǞɱƤɱİŪƐɱíɱƏƬĘĘşɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɂɱ leaned in and applied the polish.
ĉĘíŝĽşıɁɱ¸ĸĘɱŪƤĸĘƐɱĸíđɱşíĽŔƘɱƍíĽşƤĘđɱ “People used to ask what I do. When
in a shimmering pink. “I couldn’t have I say, ‘Nail Girl,’ even their eyes frown.
made it through my cancer treatments One day, a man say he plucks chick-
without Annie,” she said. “Or my Deb- ens. Next time someone ask what I do,
utante Pink.” I say to them, ‘Chicken Plucker.’ Frown
Annie reappeared at her station, worse. Went back to Nail Girl. Best.
brandishing a bottle of vibrant red Nail. Girl. Ever.”
ƍŪŔĽƘĸɁɱɢ¸ĸĽƘɱĽƘɱǊŪƬɂɱ£ŪĉĘƐƤíɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɁɱ QɱİíşşĘđɱŪƬƤɱŝǊɱǞɱşıĘƐƘɱíşđɱĊĸĘĊőĘđɱ
“Lucky Red!” out my manicure. My nails shone,
She’s picking my color for me? I ĉĘíƬƤĽİƬŔɱşŪǄɁɱ¸ĸĘɱƐĘđɱşşĽĘɱĸíđɱĊĸŪɘ
thought. That’s weird. ¸ĸĘşɱíıíĽşɂɱQɥđɱ sen was bright and bold. Exactly how I
always loved red polish, and I could wanted to feel. I left the salon smiling
use some good luck for a change. İŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɱĽşɱŝŪşƤĸƘɁ
T
Annie took my hand and went to
ǄŪƐőɁɱƘɱƘĸĘɱĊŔĽƍƍĘđɂɱǞɱŔĘđɱíşđɱĉƬİİĘđɱ hree weeks later, I returned. I
my nails, she told me a little about found myself studying the lit-
herself. She and her family were from tle sayings Annie had tacked
ÖĽĘƤşíŝɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɥđɱĽŝŝĽıƐíƤĘđɱƤŪɱŝĘƐɘ on the walls. I zeroed in on
ica when Annie was nine and settled in one of them:
California. While still in high school, DON’T LOOK BACK. YOU’RE NOT GOING
Annie studied the nail tech trade at THAT WAY.
her mother’s urging. “What do you do, How I wanted to escape the prison
Roberta?” she wanted to know. of my regrets and make those words
A lady waiting for her appointment mine! As Annie set everything down
called out from behind a magazine. on the worktable, I said, “It’s hard not
“If Roberta won’t tell you, I will. She to look back.”
was head of infection control at the Annie nodded, encouraging me to
VA hospital. Whenever anyone had a continue.
ƏƬĘƘƤĽŪşɂɱ£ŪĉĘƐƤíɱőşĘǄɱƤĸĘɱíşƘǄĘƐɁɣ “You see, I was hooked on prescrip-
I cringed, shrinking down in my tion painkillers,” I said, keeping my
chair. How had I gone from being a voice low. “I don’t need the pills now.
high-ranking nurse with a private of- But I can’t get rid of the shame.”
ǞɱĊĘɱíşđɱíɱƍĸŪşĘɱƐĽşıĽşıɱŪİİɱƤĸĘɱĸŪŪőɱ “Oh, Roberta!” Annie said. “Don’t
to the messed-up life I had now? hold that to your heart. Ball and chain
“I’m retired from nursing,” I said no more!”
at last. “Now I write little stories. All She cradled my hands in hers for

¸ĸĘşɱǊŪƬɱŔĘíƐşɱİƐŪŝɱŝĘɱíşđɱQɱŔĘíƐşɱ
from you,” she said. “Now if someone
give me $20,000? I don’t have surgery.
I buy new kitchen.”
I’m a devout Christian. But when
Annie talked about how embracing
her Buddhist principles—particu-
larly the idea that everything in life
is impermanent—had helped shape
her sunny disposition, I listened in-
tently. It made me think of what Je-
sus told his disciples the night before
ĸĽƘɱĊƐƬĊĽǞɱǉĽŪşɃɱɢQşɱƤĸĘɱǄŪƐŔđɱǊŪƬɱǄĽŔŔɱ
have tribulation. But take heart; I have
MANICURES & MESSAGES Annie posts overcome the world.”
inspiring sayings around her salon. I grew so comfortable with An-
nie that one day I told her about my
a moment before lowering my fin- struggle to whittle down all my medi-
gers into a bowl of acetone remover. cal debt. And how depressing it was
QɱǄíƤĊĸĘđɱíƘɱƤĸĘɱǡɱĘĊőƘɱŪİɱŪŔđɱƍŪŔĽƘĸɱ not to be able to do anything nice for
floated away, imagining that they myself anymore except get the occa-
were my yesterdays. sional manicure.
Annie told me more about her own Annie listened with no judgment in
battle with shame. She’d hated being her eyes, only compassion. When she
íɱŝíşĽĊƬƐĽƘƤɱíƤɱǞɱƐƘƤɂɱİĘĘŔĽşıɱĽşİĘƐĽŪƐɱ spoke, it was of pleasures that don’t
ƤŪɱƤĸĘɱíİǡɱƬĘşƤɱĊŔĽĘşƤƘɱǄĸŪɱƘĘĘŝĘđɱƤŪɱ cost a dime. “No need to go to mall.
have it all. “I look in the mirror. My People stuffocate.”
forehead was wrong, my eyes wrong, I chuckled. Annie’s command of
my mouth wrong,” Annie said. “I add- English might not be perfect, but she
ed up all the places I need surgery so made perfect sense.
that I look like I belong in America.” “Go for walk, Roberta. Every eve-
Still, she’d forged ahead, following şĽşıɂɱQɱǄíŔőɱĽşɱƍíƐőɁɱ¸íŔőɱƤŪɱĘǃĘƐǊŪşĘɥƘɱ
a friend here to Huntington, West Vir- dogs. Park and dogs are free.”
ginia, where she set up her own shop Her words shifted something in-
two decades ago. “I had no money, but side me. For weeks, I’d been coveting
I work and work and work,” she said. a leather case for my pens. I’d circled
As Annie built her clientele, her at- the one I wanted in a fancy catalog
titude shifted and she found her call- and kept staring at the picture even
ing to become the best nail girl ever. though I knew I shouldn’t spend the
“At beginning, you’re all just clients. ŝŪşĘǊɁɱ ¸ĸíƤɱ ĘǃĘşĽşıɂɱ íİƤĘƐɱ ıĘƤƤĽşıɱ
POSITIVE PEOPLE
home from the nail salon, I stumbled scented lotion into my hands. “Some
upon an old, oversize eyeglasses case. things we’re not meant to remember,
Hmm… Its red and black pebbled £ŪĉĘƐƤíɂɣɱƘĸĘɱƘíĽđɱƏƬĽĘƤŔǊɁɱɢ«ŪɱǄĘɱĊíşɱ
leather was every bit as lovely as the move on.”
pricey case in the catalog. I loaded I thought of one of my favorite Bible
the old glasses case with my writing ǃĘƐƘĘƘɂɱİƐŪŝɱ ƘíŔŝɱǮǮǵɃɱɢ¸ĸĽƘɱĽƘɱƤĸĘɱ
ĽŝƍŔĘŝĘşƤƘɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱǞɱƤɱŎƬƘƤɱƐĽıĸƤɁɱQɱƘĘƤɱ day the Lord has made; we will rejoice
my “new” pen case beside my journal, and be glad in it.” I’d recited it count-
contentment washing over me. Annie less times, but until meeting Annie I’d
would be proud. never really lived those words, had
One afternoon at the salon, one of never awakened each morning alive
the regulars was going on about the to the abundant blessings that God
đŪŪŝɱíşđɱıŔŪŪŝɱŪşɱ¸ÖɁɱ¸ĸĘɱíƤŝŪɘ intended just for me. If anyone had
sphere in the salon grew dark. Sud- told me that a Buddhist angel in a nail
denly Annie bounced up from her salon would change my life, I would
perch at the worktable and ran to the have said, “No way.” But that’s exactly
front door. She used her hands to lit- what happened.
erally sweep out the negativity and “It’s the funniest thing,” I told Annie
usher in positive vibes. recently. “Since knowing you, I realize
“Best. Day. Ever,” Annie proclaimed. I could be younger, prettier, smarter,
We all burst into laughter. At my next thinner. A whole lot wealthier. But not
appointment, a new saying adorned richer. And there’s not one person on
the salon wall, complete with a huge this earth I would trade places with.”
smiling heart: IF YOU CAN’T BE POSITIVE, şşĽĘɱƘƏƬĘĘǔĘđɱŝǊɱĸíşđƘɁɱɢpĘɱĘĽɘ
AT LEAST BE QUIET. ther, Roberta,” she said. “I love the An-
O
şĽĘɱíşđɱ£ŪĉĘƐƤíɱǄĘɥǃĘɱĉĘĊŪŝĘɁɱ¸ĸĘǊɱ
ne time, I told Annie how are enough.”
I was having trouble with Some folks might attribute my new
a story I was working on. way of thinking to a polish called
“It’s about a painful time in Lucky Red. I say it wasn’t luck at all. It
my past,” I said. “But most of the de- was Annie, who’d pointed the way to
ƤíĽŔƘɱíƐĘɱıŪşĘɁɱ¸ĸĘƐĘɥƘɱíɱŔŪƤɱQɱŎƬƘƤɱđŪşɥƤɱ my Best. Life. Ever.
remember anymore.”
Annie gently massaged herbal- For more on this story, see FAMILY ROOM
“I’ll pop my headphones on and sing while I water and trim

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Upheld
I’d never run a trail race
before. And I didn’t
think I would make it
through this one
By BETH POTTLE
Wilmington, North Carolina
I
was at a Native American reserva- camped out in a small city of tents. I
tion in California, two hours from knew no one. Everyone looked way
the nearest big city. A desert land- ǊŪƬşıĘƐɛíşđɱǞɱƤƤĘƐɛƤĸíşɱQɱǄíƘɁ
scape of scrub brush and rocky My husband, Tom, thought I was
slopes extended in all directions. nuts when I signed up.
I was here to run. And I was pretty “Let me get this straight,” he said.
intimidated. ɢÝŪƬɥƐĘɱıŪĽşıɱƤŪɱǡɱǊɱİƐŪŝɱrŪƐƤĸɱíƐŪɘ
It was November 2019, and I had lina to California, meet up with total
just arrived at the Ragnar Los Coyotes strangers, drive two hours into the
trail relay race. The annual race is a mountains where cell phones don’t
grueling multiday relay through the work and there’s no running water.
GETTY IMAGES
rugged beauty of Los Coyotes Indian Then you’re going to camp with those
Reservation in San Diego County. strangers while competing in a multi-
More than 200 runners were here, day relay race?”

SPIRITUAL NOTEBOOK
Now I was asking my- hosted that sent daily Bible verses to
self the same question. I members’ phones.
gazed at the sleek, toned “Sure!” I said. I needed all the en-
athletes setting up their couragement I could get.
tents and chatting about Like right now. I felt alone in this
past trail races they’d run. remote landscape. I couldn’t even call
I was 58, a former teach- Tom or the girls. No cell service.
er and stay-at-home mom I joined my relay team. We were
of two grown kids. I’d eight women from around the United
been a recreational run- States selected by the moms’ running
ner for years; I’d even group. I was the oldest by far.
competed in races. But We gathered around the tent where
I’d never run a trail race we’d sleep during the race. We talked
in my life. about the course, three loops of in-
Nothing like this. Some ĊƐĘíƘĽşıɱđĽİǞɱĊƬŔƤǊɱǄĽƤĸɱíɱƤŪƤíŔɱĘŔĘǃíɘ
runners travel around the tion change of nearly 4,000 feet.
world to compete in big- Each member of the team had to
name marathons or off- take turns running each loop. It would
road races in spectacular take more than 24 hours for everyone
locations. Not me. Family to complete the entire course.
ĊíŝĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɁ Ping!
The previous year, Kate, We looked around. The sound came
our younger daughter, from my cell phone.
had gone off to college. “Did you just get a text?” one of my
Suddenly I was free to try teammates asked.
a bigger adventure. When an online “I did,” I said, puzzled.
moms’ running group advertised this I was even more puzzled when I read
rugged race on the other side of the the message. It was a Bible verse. From
country, I jumped at it. Isaiah, chapter 41: “So do not fear, for I
My training would be considered a am with you; do not be dismayed, for
joke by the elite runners here. There I am your God. I will strengthen you
are no big hills in my North Carolina and help you; I will uphold you with
town. If I wanted to run up a hill, I’d my righteous right hand.”
have to go to a parking garage. It was my neighbor’s Bible verse
Neighbors watched and wondered group text. How did it show up on
as I slogged through two runs a day in my phone? It was evening; she usu-
the August heat. One pulled up beside ally sent the texts in the morning. And
me in her car and asked if I wanted to there was no reception here.
sign up for a text message group she “It’s a Bible verse,” I said.
SPIRITUAL NOTEBOOK
had been a warm-up by comparison.

Almost immediately I had to walk,
too discouraged to run up trails that
seemed almost vertical.
Runners passed on either side. My
lungs burned. I wanted to stop.
“Left foot, right foot,” a runner
chanted as he zipped by.
I stopped and caught my breath.
The verse from Isaiah sounded in my
head: I will strengthen you and help you.
I wasn’t alone; God was
with me. I can do this, I told
myself. All I had to do was
MOMS ON THE RUN Beth (top move my left foot, then my
row, second from left) with her right foot.
other Mother Runner teammates.
Inset: Beth tackles the mountain-
I got going again and
ous relay course. picked up speed. I pushed
onward. All of a sudden, I
heard cheering ahead. My
“Let’s hear it,” someone said. teammates were hooting and clap-
I read the words aloud. ƍĽşıɱíƘɱQɱĊƐŪƘƘĘđɱƤĸĘɱǞɱşĽƘĸɱŔĽşĘɁ
“Now that is something to think We waited for three more runners
about,” another teammate said. ŪşɱŪƬƐɱƤĘíŝɱƤŪɱǞɱşĽƘĸɁɱƘɱƤĸĘɱŔíƘƤɱŪşĘɱ
“Five minutes to start!” our team approached, we ran onto the course
leader cried. The discussion ended, íşđɱŎŪĽşĘđɱĸĘƐɱíĊƐŪƘƘɱƤĸĘɱǞɱşĽƘĸɱŔĽşĘɁɱ
and we scrambled to gather our things We hugged each other, our dusty
and head to the starting line. faces streaked with tears. We took
I was runner number five on the photos with our medals, packed up our
team. It was getting dark when I be- campsite and headed for San Diego.
gan laboring up the rocky trails of the As soon as my team members and I
ǞɱƐƘƤɱŔŪŪƍɁɱQɱĸíđɱƤŪɱǄíŔőɱíşđɱıƐíĉɱƤƐĘĘɱ got back in cell range, all of our phones
branches to haul myself up the steep- started buzzing. Mine lit up with mul-
est slopes. What if I fell? My headlamp tiple texts from Tom and the girls, ask-
slipped. I kept running. ing how the race was going and send-
COURTESY BETH POTTLE
First loop. ing me encouragement.

Second loop. None of those texts had made it
QɱƤƐĽĘđɱƤŪɱşíƍɱĽşɱƤĸĘɱƤĘşƤɱƬşƤĽŔɱƤĸĘɱǞɱɘ through.
nal, toughest loop. Day was breaking Only one did. The one I’d needed
íƘɱQɱƘĘƤɱŪƬƤɁɱ}ĸɱĉŪǊɂɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤǄŪɱŔŪŪƍƘɱ the most.

what prayer can do
®
POWER IN OUR DAY- TO-DAY LIVES
HEALING OUR DIVISIONS
P
íǃŪĽđĽşıɰƍŪŔĽƤĽĊƘɰĽƘɰƤĸĘɰĉĘƘƤɰǄĘɰĊíşɰđŪ.
“ romise me you won’t bring up Don looked up from his newspaper

politics,” I said to my husband, at the table. “I think we should start
Don, as we left for Christmas praying together every day,” he said.
dinner at my sister’s. I agreed to give it a try. The ten-
“I’ve already promised!” Don said. ƘĽŪşɲĉĘƤǄĘĘşɱƬƘɱđĽƘíƍƍĘíƐĘđɱǄĸĘşɱ
For most of our marriage, Don and ǄĘɲİŪĊƬƘĘđɱŪƬƐɱíƤƤĘşƤĽŪşɱŪşɱEŪđɂɱ
I had been on the same page politi- and we both felt good asking him to
cally. But lately we weren’t even in ıĽǃĘɲǄĽƘđŪŝɱƤŪɱŪƬƐɱŔĘíđĘƐƘɁɱɱİĘǄɱ
the same book, and Don weeks after we started
never missed a chance to our new prayer habit,
voice his opinions. I knew Don suggested we invite
it wasn’t just Don and me the rest of the family to
with this problem. The join in by phone. It was a
whole country seemed great success.
ƘƍŪĽŔĽşıɱİŪƐɱíɱǞɱıĸƤɁ One afternoon, Don
Don kept his word, and and I were driving when
dinner went well—until a news brief came on the
my sister made a com- radio. I braced myself for
ment about the news. Her %ŪşɱƤŪɱŪİİĘƐɱƘŪŝĘɲĊŪŝɘ
husband chimed in. Don ment that I couldn’t let go.
responded. In seconds, By KRISTY DEWBERRY Instead, he said, “We
ĸíƐƘĸɱǄŪƐđƘɱǄĘƐĘɱǡɱǊĽşıɁ Oklahoma City, Oklahoma should spread the Gospel
“Isn’t it nice that we of God, not the gospel of
can vote for anyone we want?” I said politicians.” And switched off the radio.
nervously when there was a break in QƤɥƘɱşŪƤɱƤĸíƤɱ%ŪşɱíşđɱQɱĸíǃĘɲíĉíşɘ
the action. Everyone settled down— doned our political beliefs. We just
or more accurately, returned to their don’t let them come between us. God
corners. I spent the rest of the dinner is healing our family, reminding us
feeling tense, waiting for them to go that we’re part of a story that’s bigger
at it again. EŪđɁɰĸĘŔƍɰŝĘɰǝɰşđɰíɰǄíǊɰƤŪɰ than our current political divisions.
ĉƐĽşıɰŪƬƐɰİíŝĽŔǊɰĉíĊőɰƤŪıĘƤĸĘƐɁ I asked I know he’ll heal our nation too.
on the way home.
SHEVAUN WILLIAMS
I waited for God to give me a brilliant NEED PRAYER? Join the OurPrayer
community! Submit your prayer requests
idea. And waited. As I was making and pray for others at ourprayer.org.
breakfast shortly after New Year’s, For daily inspiration, visit facebook.com
the topic was still on my mind. píǊĉĘɰ /ourprayer.

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family room
®
MEET THE PEOPLE IN OUR PAGES
K
ristin Chenoweth
(The Gift That
Changed the
World, page 36) is bring-
ing joy to the holiday
season with her new
album, Happiness Is…
Christmas. “I wanted
to do something that
had to do with my deep
DNA, which is Charlie
Brown,” she says of the
ǞɱƐƘƤɱƘŪşıɱŪşɱƤĸĘɱíŔĉƬŝɂɱ
“Happiness (Is Christ-
mas)/Christmas Time
Is Here.” The medley
includes songs from
ƤĸĘɱǞɱŔŝɱA Charlie Brown
Christmas and the musi-
cal You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, celebrating young artistic expression.
renowned for Kristin’s 1999 Tony- To learn more about Kristin’s projects,
winning performance as Sally Brown, visit ŪİǞɱĊĽíŔőƐĽƘƤĽşĊĸĘşŪǄĘƤĸɁĊŪŝ.
which made her a star. Kristin’s an-
nual Broadway Bootcamp, a program
she created in Oklahoma for aspiring
young actors and singers, took place
C huck Turk (Hello, Dolly! page
66) and his wife, Marilyn, were
inspired to get their golden retriever
virtually in June 2021. Campers in puppy, Dolly, by GUIDEPOSTS editor-in-
grades 8 through 12 chief Edward Grinnan
learned professional and contributing editor
BOTTOM: COURTESY MARILYN TURK
performance skills and Peggy Frezon. “The

techniques and got more pictures I saw of
coaching from industry their golden retrievers,
professionals. The singer the more I wanted one
and actress also runs of my own,” Marilyn
The Kristin Chenoweth
Arts & Education Fund, TURK Dolly loves her
a charity committed to people...and her bear.
FAMILY ROOM
recalls. Now the Turks are adjusting

to life with their new companion and
enjoying every minute, even though
raising a puppy is a lot of work. “It’s
like having a child,” Marilyn says.
“We have to be mindful of where she
is and what she’s doing.” Most eve-
nings, Dolly snuggles on the couch
between the two of them as they
watch TV. “We have a lighthearted
competition over who gets Dolly’s
head and who gets the other end!”
Chuck says.
TOP: COURTESY CATHERINE MADERA; BOTTOM: ALTON STRUPP/COURIER JOURNAL VIA IMAGN CONTENT SERVICES, LLC
G UIDEPOSTS
Adam Ruiz
has been a part of
’s (Moments of Hope,
page 60) life for as long as he can
MADERA Catherine’s mom, Sheryl, is all
smiles with nutcracker expert Arlene (left).
remember. “It was part of our fam- ǄĽƤĸɱƐĘíŔɱƘƤƐƬııŔĘƘɱǄĸŪɱǞɱşđɱíɱǄíǊɱƤŪɱ

ily,” he says. “My older sisters had ŪǃĘƐĊŪŝĘɱđĽİǞɱĊƬŔƤĽĘƘɛǄĽƤĸɱƤĸĘɱĸĘŔƍɱ
a subscription, which gave me the of God and others.”
opportunity to read the stories.” Now
Adam uses the magazine in his work
as a chaplain at Norton Women’s &
Children’s Hospital, in Louisville,
L eavenworth, Washington, has
always been a special place for
Catherine Madera (Greetings From
Kentucky. Copies of GUIDEPOSTS are Small-Town America, page 20). “My
left in the chapel for visitors to read mom, younger sister and I would
or take home. The magazine also make it a girls’ trip every fall,” she
has an impact on patients, many of says. “We’d enjoy the beautiful fall
whom had never colors. Sometimes we’d make it just
heard of it before in time for Oktoberfest.” Catherine
but ended up recently took a trip to Leavenworth
wanting more. to research her story and brought her
“GUIDEPOSTS mom, Sheryl. They ate Reuben sand-
is disarming, wiches and enjoyed the sunshine
gentle, positive, while walking through the Bavarian-
nonjudgmental inspired town. “My grandmother
and real,” Adam was German, so every time we go to
says. “It speaks Leavenworth my mom is reminded
RUIZ Adam has been to the courage of her heritage,” Catherine says.
a chaplain for 14 years. of real people Visiting the Nutcracker Museum,

they met its 97-year-old founder and ŪşĘɱŔŪŪőɱíƤɱƤĸĘɱǞɱşıĘƐƘɱƘĸĘɥđɱŔŪǃɘ
director, Arlene Wagner. “Arlene and ingly cared for was all Annie needed.
my 76-year-old mom strike me as “That’s Roberta Messner,” she said.
similar,” Catherine says. “Both are “Lucky Red!” It seems as if Lucky Red
vibrant and involved with their com- is sure gaining popularity, especially
munity even in their later years.” Ar- in Roberta’s corner of West Virginia.
lene shows no signs of stepping away
from the museum, inspiring many,
Catherine included. “That’s the kind
of retiree I want to be!” she says.
E rin Napier (Positive Thinker, page
34) and her husband, Ben, ap-
peared on our cover in November
2018 to share how they started their
W hen Roberta Messner (Annie’s

Way, page 82) walked into
şşĽĘɥƘɱşíĽŔɱƘíŔŪşɱİŪƐɱƤĸĘɱǞɱƐƘƤɱƤĽŝĘɱ
popular HGTV renovation show
Home Town, based in Laurel, Mis-
sissippi. A lot has happened to the
in fall 2018, the exuberant, couple since then.
intuitive manicurist sensed The hit show en-
that Roberta needed some ters its sixth season
extra TLC. Annie chose this January. Erin
ƤĸĘɱƍĘƐİĘĊƤɱƘĸíđĘɛfƬĊőǊɱ and Ben have de-
£ĘđɛƤŪɱŔĽİƤɱĸĘƐɱşĘǄɱĊƬƘɘ voted themselves
tomer’s spirits. In Roberta’s to raising their now
photograph for her May three-year-old
2020 GUIDEPOSTS story, My daughter, Helen.
Mother’s Promise, those Lucky (Building her crib
Red nails popped against was a bucket list
her white ironstone coffee item for Ben as a
mug. Months later, a woman carpenter.) Though
picked up that issue at a Erin had some
đŪĊƤŪƐɥƘɱŪİǞɱĊĘɁɱrŪƤɱőşŪǄĽşıɱ NAPIER Erin and her hus- health struggles
Roberta had any connection band, Ben, on the November and didn’t think
to Annie, the woman clipped 2018 cover of GUIDEPOSTS another baby
out the photo showing the would be possible,
manicure and took it to a salon. “I’ve she and Ben welcomed daughter Mae
been looking for this color for years. last spring. “God answers in his own
Any idea what it is?” she asked. Just time, not ours, as awfully hard as
that can be,” Erin says. She and Ben
SUBSCRIBERS: If the Post Office alerts are also busy running Laurel Mercan-
us that your magazine is undeliverable,
we have no further obligation unless we tile, which sells U.S.-made heirloom
receive a corrected address within one ǄíƐĘƘɱíşđɱđƬƐíĉŔĘɱıŪŪđƘɁɱ¸ŪɱǞɱşđɱŪƬƤɱ
year of the Postal notification. more, go to ŔíƬƐĘŔŝĘƐĊíşƤĽŔĘɁĊŪŝ.
continued
HOW A STORY MADE A DIFFERENCE
CARDS FOR TROOPS and very indepen-

In the June/July 2020 issue, I wrote dent, we love liv-
a Someone CaresɱíĉŪƬƤɱŝǊɱşŪşƍƐŪǞɱƤɂɱ ing alone in the
Making Cards for Our Troops. Our mountains with
all-volunteer group makes and ships our animals. Like
unsigned Christmas and all-occasion Lou, I read lots of Scripture each
cards to deployed troops so they have morning and talk to Jesus all day long
cards to send to loved ones. I asked but prefer not to attend church. I
GUIDEPOSTS readers to join in. Thanks loved reading about Lou’s friend Red,
to you, Making Cards for Our Troops who is always looking out for her. He
took in 76,012 cards last year—a reminds me of the small group of
1,000 percent friends I have—they love me for me.
increase! This past April, I lost my Jack
£ĘíđĘƐƘɲşíƤĽŪşɘ Russell terrier, Bailey, whose cuddles
wide continue helped me through the loss of my
to make cards for husband nine years ago. Lou’s Angels
us. We also get on Earth story Trust in Him (May/June
şŪƤĘƘɱİƐŪŝɲŝĽŔĽɘ 2021)—about her barn cat Two
tary members Socks—hit the mark. I’ve learned to
ǄĸŪɱíƐĘɱƘŪɲıƐíƤĘɘ accept that some things are beyond
ful to have cards for family. What an my control. Just as Lou trusts in God
exciting journey! Thank you, GUIDE- to protect her beloved animals, I am
POSTS, for being such a pivotal part of trusting the Lord to bring me comfort
our growth. under all circumstances.
E-mail us at cardsfortroops2398 LAURA H. LEWIS
@gmail.com to learn how you too Lostine, Oregon
can pitch in.
PAT BRODSKY Has a GUIDEPOSTS story inspired
Annapolis, Maryland you? Tell us about it at continued
@guideposts.org.
COMFORT IN LOSS
I’ve enjoyed reading Lou Dean’s sto- Follow us on Instagram
ries in your magazines over the years. @guidepostsmagazine
The Advice I Needed (April 2021 GUIDE- “Like” us on Facebook. Go to
POSTS) showed me that Lou and I facebook.com/guideposts
have a lot in common. Both widows

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Am J Respir Crit Care Med. 2013;187:823–831.
2. ]½łâēēÿ%S֤ę½ē½Đŏü½Ě֤UâŮŊB֤%ÿ½Ŷ֣ŏłĻâØŊÿĚöĚġĚֿØŮłŊÿØž×ľġłÿł×ľġĚØüÿâØŊ½łÿł֥
What the busy primary care clinician needs to know. Int J Clin Pract. 2017;71(2):e12924.
© 2021 Koninklijke Philips N.V. All rights reserved. | 910172-000 Rev D

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INSPIRATION FOR LIFE

The Light of God

redemption. Not by design, necessarily—at least not by our

2 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022 Check out Edward’s blog at guideposts.org/edblog

Features OVERCOMING ADDICTION

COVER PHOTOGRAPHED FOR GUIDEPOSTS BY LARSEN&TALBERT; THIS PAGE: CORY O’NEILL

4 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

TURN FOR MORE STORIES

6 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

QUOTES FROM TODAY’S POSITIVE THINKERS

“Give! Consideration, patience,

“The man who built that

“Regrets are a waste of time…

“No emptiness ever

May you never be

SEND AN UPLIFTING QUOTE from a newsmaker or yourself to upside@guideposts.org

8 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

possible not just a new way bathroom, embarrassing leaks and

to meet your blessings ALL NATURAL CLINICALLY-TESTED

“God cannot be surprised.”

“We’re not called to tell

people how important we

10 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

During the Christmas season, I hang a marquee sign

Faith Step: Go outside, raise your hands in the air

Enjoy more devotions written especially for women

WARM WISHES postcards. Several students told

I t was the last day of school before

12 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

E very year, I get an extra copy of my

Do you struggle with negative thoughts…about

spiritual well-being. We’ve put together 15 tips

14 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

4 Remember how pounds around your your state of mind.

16 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

you had trouble meet-

18 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

Our primary duty is to love them. if the prayer was becoming a

20 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

mann—differ from the

See the nutcrackers and hear the alpenhorn at guideposts.org/leavenworth 21

creative DIY gift- night while

22 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

EASY Everything you want to do, from texting Plans with

one screen with large, legible letters. Plus,

SMART Turn your Jitterbug Smart3 into a personal safety

AFFORDABLE Lively has a variety of plans with data

Powered by the nation’s most HOLIDAY SAVINGS

WHO SHE IS Jen asked if anyone could

24 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

26 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022 Read more from Rick at guideposts.org/rickhamlin

gifts I’ve ever been

Play! What’s more fun than watching

Who makes you smile? Send us a photo at submissions@guideposts.org 27

Keeping the Faith

month at noon ET. overcome it.” Shine on

28 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

30 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

Get more prayer tips from Bob at guideposts.org/bobhostetler G U I D E P O S T S .O R G 31

Want more miracles? Get Mysterious Ways magazine at guideposts.org/mw 35

The Gift That

38 GUIDEPOSTS • Dec/Jan 2022

We put carols on the stereo, made hot Those butterflies in my stomach

that?) I knew it was something I’d

ĘőíĸɥƘɱĸĘíŔĽşıɱĸíđɱĉĘĘşɱƤĸĘɱíşɘ “How are you doing in there, sweet-