New research casts doubt on the connection between smartphone use and teens’ mental health. Some argue it is a case of correlation, not causation, and that the threat is overblown. From All Things Considered @ NPR
50 Years Later, Virginia Recalls The Devastation Caused By Hurricane Camille
Fifth years ago, Hurricane Camille slammed into the eastern United States, killing hundreds of people and leaving behind a wake of devastation. From All Things Considered @ NPR
There are some people that resonate beauty and grace with a simple, “hello”. Pam Tebow, the mother of Tim Tebow, is one of those people. It is clear in Pam’s tone and manner that she loves both Jesus and her family. From Christian Headlines
Recording artist Lauren Daigle has received six nominations from the Gospel Music Association’s Dove Awards. From Christian Headlines
Engineers at the University of California Berkeley have developed a patch that can measure someone’s sweat composition and sweat rate at the site of excretion. From All Things Considered at NPR
In their latest gasp for fresh ideas, Macy’s and J.C. Penney made the same choice: A tie-up with ThredUp, the largest online store for second-hand clothes –- one of retail’s fastest-growing segments. Full story at All Things Considered on NPR
By Doug Creamer
When I sit down to work on my column each week, I reflect back on my week and think about how God has been working in my life. I know I write a lot about gardening, but that is a time when my mind and spirit can concentrate on the Lord and I can hear so much from Him. My reflections from the garden may not be as positive as usual, as the deer came and feasted on my corn. I am not happy with the deer.
We did have some luck from the garden. We have enjoyed some potatoes and beans. The tomatoes are in a lull right now. Some of the vines have died, but others are putting on some flowers and bringing me hope of a late fall harvest of fresh tomatoes. The first squash plants are dying back too, but I do have some that I planted later that are blooming pretty right now.
You see, it is easy for me to write about gardening. I do wish that we could get some rain over here. There has been rain all around us recently, but my yard is really dry. I look out and see some of the trees have leaves that are turning yellow. I am spending lots of time watering in order to keep things alive.
As I look back at last week’s calendar, none of that appears on it. What does appear is notes of friends who lost a loved one. Two people from my church lost loved ones and I wanted to be there for them. I go to a relatively small church and we are like family. When one of us is hurting, we are all hurting. I haven’t been to a funeral in a long time, and to go to two in one week was a bit overwhelming.
I always have trouble with what to say to the family who is hurting so badly. Imagine that, someone who loves to use words to write, struggling with words to offer a family that is suffering a great loss. I feel so inadequate. My words seem so empty. How can I come up with words that will help comfort and bring healing?
It is only upon reflection that I realize that it is not my words that help to bring comfort, it is simply my presence. When we take time to be there, devoid of platitudes, giving a simple hug or even a handshake can touch and mean so much. Giving moral support in a time of loss means the world to those who are struggling.
One thing I do know is that we have to be careful with our words when someone is grieving. Often, we want to offer platitudes that we intend to comfort the hurting, but could actually have the opposite effect. It is especially important with parents who have suddenly lost a child. It is better to hold them, say you are sorry for their loss, and hold them some more. I can’t imagine that pain or ever being able to fully recover.
The situation could be different for people who are caregivers who have endured a long, debilitating journey of suffering with their loved one. The words, “your loved one is in a better place” could actually bring the comfort you desire. No one wants to see a loved one suffer. But even in this case, I believe your presence and your prayers can mean more than any words you could offer.
A few friends have lost loved ones, and what I discovered was that listening can be the best medicine. They didn’t need my words. They coveted my prayers and my presence. A warm embrace and allowing them to shed a few tears on my shoulder was what they wanted the most. My words would have seemed hollow and empty, but my presence was appreciated.
This is a hard column to write as I know of several friends who are facing the loss of their loved ones. My heart aches for them. I find myself praying for them often throughout the day. I wonder what more I can do. I stay in touch and reach out with love.
I want to encourage you to be there for people who are suffering from a loss, or even those who are enduring the role of caregiver for their loved ones. People often feel alone during the darkest hours of their lives, but we know they are not, AND we have to let them know they are not alone. Our presence means so much, especially when our words seem so insufficient.
Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com
The Inheritance
By Lynna Clark
My beloved mom-in-law passed away a few weeks ago. She was such a beautiful soul. And funny… oh my word! The things she would come up with. She had special names for certain things in her life; like the big white robe she wore in the winter. Often she warned us not to be alarmed if we saw a polar bear ambling around her house as it was just Big Bertha.
When she could no longer walk with just the assistance of a cane, she began using a walker with a seat. It had a little basket where she would load her gardening tools as she puttered around the yard. Inside the house she would load it with cleaning supplies or laundry for that long trip down the hall. She dubbed it her “Cadillac.”
She had a pink blouse which she always wore to the doctor. More accurately it was mauve, that dusty rose color which was popular in the eighties. Her daughters tried every way they could to get her to wear something besides that godawful shirt as it did her no favors. However she always went back to it. Though mauve is code for ugly, she brightened it with her smile.
We’ve begun cleaning out her home of over fifty years. You can’t even imagine the treasures we’re gleaning. So far we’ve only gotten to the kitchen. We checked expiration dates on the foods in the pantry and laughed so hard at the things she hung onto. David suggested that if the date began with the words “In the year of our Lord,” we could probably assume it was too old to consume. In the back of one especially low cabinet was an unidentifiable figure. It appeared to be a dried corpse of an animal from yesteryear. David’s sister bravely pushed it into the floor with a broom. The four of us stood hovering over it trying to make out what it could have been. David finally scooped it up with the dustpan and took it outside. It was larger than a squirrel and had a funky shape. The sisters told me I could have it as part of my inheritance. I was more than thrilled.
Later as I thought again about the dried up mystery animal, I remembered bringing Nina some driftwood from the beach many years ago. She had expressed wanting a piece to put a little ceramic bird on that I had brought her the year before. Apparently the two treasures never met as she always had lots of projects in the works. In fact that bird is probably buried somewhere in her craft room which our middle daughter lovingly renamed Nanny’s Crap Room. It is an accurate description and we can hardly wait to go through the treasures there.
What I love about Nina’s kids, Jo, Gail, and David, is that they’ve been able to maintain their mother’s great sense of humor as we do the necessary things. No pushing, grabbing, or resentment; just working together to honor their mother’s last wish of having a happy home. The closest we’ve come to fighting so far has been over a pack of bacon.
Very graciously I have been included in the dividing of assets. Along with the driftwood shaped like a varmint, I’ve been given her cement pineapple which was always her southern symbol of hospitality. Though I do not share that same sentiment, I love that she did. I tucked it by my side entrance behind a large hosta lest anyone get the wrong idea. You know how I feel about entertaining visitors I do not know. All you “angels unaware” might as well fly on down the street to someone more Godly. However, if you do happen to knock on my door, don’t be surprised if I’m wearing a mauve shirt. Too bad it didn’t come with Nina’s sweet smile.
Proof I’m not riding along – By David Freeze
Part ll
Part l with the surveyor still is one of the best stories about my bike rides and of my life. But this summer’s ride to Alaska has a continued lesson about His presence on my cycling adventures. You’ll see why I ask every day, “Lord, ride with me.”
On just my third day of the Nevada to Alaska cycling adventure, I found myself on a warm day with lots of hills and my water consumption had increased to the point that I needed water soon. I had left Doyle and then Milford, California, assured in both places that there were supply points ahead. I had all my bottles filled with water and a squeeze filter strainer should I need it to drink out of a creek or stream. This option didn’t appeal to me unless the water was moving significantly, although the packaging said that even standing water would be safe. I had 3,000 miles to ride and didn’t want any gastric conditions.
With temperatures in the lower 90s, I kept pushing north through the challenging terrain. On US 395 in these parts, traffic is insignificant. I did find on my map that there was a Federal Land Management fire station well north of where I was, but there was no guarantee of available water there.
On a day that reminded me of the day six years ago when I needed water, the same situation soon became a reality. I was out of water again and if the FLM facility wasn’t staffed, would still have close to 50 more miles until the first town. It was a time to stop the bike and say again, “Lord, ride with me,” and this time I was specific about the need for water and how soon it was needed.
Just a few miles after the prayer and on another steep and hot uphill, I spotted a no longer used rest area. This one had signs and concrete barricades to keep cars out. I stopped a quarter mile away and prayed something like this, “Lord, its hot and dry and I need water. I have never seen a rest area out here with water, particularly an abandoned one. But Lord, if its OK with you, I ask you to provide me with a source of water.”
I pedaled on and rode through a gap in the barricades and looked around. The bathroom buildings were locked and signs were everywhere to keep out. But off to my left was the most uplifting sight of my trip, a long galvanized pipe spewing spring water at a constant rate. My incredibly selfish prayer had been heard, although that pipe had probably been there for years.
Within minutes, I drank three bottles of the wonderfully delicious water, ate a few cookies, and felt wonderful. The peace of knowing that my prayer connection has such power comforts me incredibly.
I left the rest area with a huge smile, but wondering how often those around me realize the power of prayer. No doubt that the Lord does ride along daily.
On ahead, once I topped the summit of this particular mountain, I did find that FLM fire station. Firefighter Ryan Rodd had me come in for a fantastic peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made even better because I was no longer thirsty. Still Ryan, from North Carolina, told me that I could top off my water bottles in his station. I did, but nothing could possibly have beaten the taste of that spring water!
Lord, Ride with me today! is the title of my first book and remains my thoughtful request to start a cycling day. I have no doubt that He is with me today and every day.
