My Unsung Hero

by   May 12, 2024 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

What is the last movie you went to see that moved you to tears because it somehow was relatable to your own life? For me, it is the movie Unsung Hero, which debuted two weeks ago at number 2 at the box office. The story focuses on the Smallbone family’s transition to the States from Australia in the Contemporary Christian Music industry. While that aspect gets the story moving, the unsung hero revealed in the story is the one who moves the audience to tears and to hope. She is Helen Smallbone, a devoted wife and mother to 7 children. 

As I watched the movie, I resonated with “Mom” – making the best of uncertainty and seemingly hopeless situations, speaking life and courage for her family’s sake, hiding frustration and fears while screaming them into a pillow. It hit close to my heart because most of us have experienced this as a mom or wife. 

Then, I began to recollect memories of my mother, particularly during childhood. She was wed to my dad, who had a terminal illness, was widowed in her early 30s, co-parented on meager incomes, and watched her mother live with dementia. My mom wasn’t perfect. She would worry and have concerns; we, as her children, also gave her plenty to be concerned about.

I wonder when she had to scream into a pillow. I can recall that maybe twice, she got in the car and went for a drive to cool off, but I am sure she had other ways to release. I feel that connection deeply when I have had to do that myself – to escape smothering realities momentarily and to avoid overreacting regretfully.

I saw her grow just as I grew. I see myself growing, even as my children have grown. Mom and I started off as those hollering moms – you know, the ones that have to raise their voices to get their children’s attention. Thankfully, when my oldest was young, the Holy Spirit helped me grow in that area. If that was an area of weakness, so was my patience. I would say the same for my mom when she was younger. Yet, I witnessed growth in her and myself. 

Do you see the pattern? Moms growing as they parent. God has a beautiful way of sanctifying His people. It can look different for one than for another. Not all need to be mothers to experience this. But, and I speak with some bias, there is nothing quite like the sanctification a mother experiences over the years as she submits to the process and her Lord. I realize the latter part of that sentence is not en vogue, yet there is no denying it. I know what I witnessed in my mother. Sometimes, friends, family, and even my children glorify God in their remarks of good character changes they have seen in me over time. That is enough. 

Consider taking your unsung hero to the theater to see the movie this week. She will feel that you get her. If that is not possible, at least take a moment to reflect on their strength through weakness, allowing you to benefit from their love and care.

Ashlie Miller is in the process of sanctification in mothering 5 children. You may email her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.

Compassion

by   May 11, 2024 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            We have two church members who changed their membership from earth to heaven this week. I cannot imagine what their spouses are going through, losing the love of their lives. It has been a long week for our church family. How do you bring comfort to someone who is grieving the loss of someone so dear to them?

            There are two general ways to show compassion for the grieving. The first is simply being sympathetic and understanding their grief. We know it takes time and space to work through the grieving process. It is very important to pray for those going through grief and other difficulties. 

            The second way to show compassion for the grieving is by doing something for them. Many people attend the funeral, which lets the family know that they are not alone in their grief. Sometimes just sitting with the family, your presence, can bring comfort and healing. Sometimes people make meals and send them over to the family. Others find practical ways they can help the family by doing favors or running errands. There is nothing too little for a family in grief.

            Compassion is a necessary ingredient in all our lives, not just when someone is grieving. We all struggle with sin and failure. We make mistakes and we fall down. Compassion means that we find a way to lift each other up. When I fall down, I need compassion and a helping hand. Compassion never leaves a person in a fallen or broken state. It always lifts, encourages, and helps to restore the individual. And we do it with dignity.

            An important part of compassion is apologizing when we do something wrong. A good apology consists of three things: Admitting your wrongdoing, taking responsibility for your behavior, and then finding out how to make things right again. When someone comes to me and apologizes for something they did that was wrong, I always try to say that I accept their apology. I know how hard it is to swallow my pride when I need to apologize, and appreciate when others extend grace to me. I want to do the same for others.

            The surprising thing I learned about compassion this week is celebrating other people’s successes or good fortune is a part of compassion. When someone gets a promotion or a new car or a new house it is important to celebrate with them. Compassion causes your joy to overflow for them and the goodness of God they are experiencing. Showing genuine excitement when others succeed is another form of compassion.

            I have learned something late in life that I wish I knew when I was younger. Many people rarely hear their parents or bosses say that they are proud of their work or accomplishments. Words of praise can be a powerful motivator. We all want to be noticed for our achievements and accomplishments. Taking time to notice and expressing your pride in others can motivate them to achieve greater things. I have witnessed first-hand the power of positive reinforcement with my students.

            Jesus offered compassion to many people when He was here on earth. Every time He healed someone, compassion for their situation moved Him to action. Jesus focused primarily on the Israelites but was moved by compassion for the woman at the well, who was a Samaritan. Jews hated the Samaritans but Jesus demonstrated the Father’s heart of love and compassion for her. She in turn spread the news about Jesus, and He stayed in Samaria for several days ministering to and healing many of the people.

            Compassion drives God’s heart for each one of us. He cares deeply when you are hurting, whether it is physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual pain. He wants to bring healing to your life. He knows about your situation and wants to help you find restoration and hope again. You haven’t gone too far. No one is beyond God’s reach if you will only turn around and open your heart to His love. He understands your situation and has compassion for you. Accept His love. Receive His forgiveness. Allow His healing power to set you free.

            I want to encourage you to allow God’s compassionate heart to touch yours. You have to open the door for Him. He will not open your door and force His way in. He awaits your invitation…He is knocking on the door of your heart. His unconditional love and acceptance are on the other side of that door. It’s up to you. I pray that you will make room for Jesus in your heart.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

The Eye of the Storm

by   May 10, 2024 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

The Eye of the Storm

All around me the COVID-19 storm swirls, and disagreement concerning it seems to grow more each day. The ordeal tries us. But during this morning’s ride, I found myself in what appeared to be the eye of this raging storm.

A heavy, dark cloud cover floated in over my right shoulder from the west. It calmed the morning breeze and everything else. But for the birdsong: The brown thrasher talked from the holly hedgerow to anyone who was interested; A bluebird chattered as it flew to rest on the roof of an abandoned titmouse nesting box; One robin called to anyone listening while gathering morsels from the drainage ditch out front; And a water scattering of splashing from the birdbath told of a cleaner cardinal; A clamoring from above the tall pine trees revealed a chasing away of an intruder by the vigilant crows.

The sweet aroma from the privet across the road covered the scene like a mother’s blanket  spread over her child. Its sweetness floated to the pine tops, lay across the ground, and wafted through the air giving me cause to inhale deeply its strong, yet relaxing scent.

Riding into this calm of the storm, I hand-cranked vigorously and maintained, at least on my odometer, 16 miles per hour. Listening and seeing and smelling it all, I rode into the power of this moment, applauding its grace.

Thirty minutes later, the ride finished, I knew something special had occurred. Yes, I ride my stationary handcycle here next to my shop each morning. I see the coming of day, greet walking neighbors, compliment their dogs and children, and manage to break a bit of a sweat while exercising arms and lungs. But this morning’s ride was more than mere exercising on a stationary handcycle. A gifted grace of peace had happened there beneath the thirty-nine mature pines. A calm after the first onslaught from the COVID-19 and a calm before its next; a moment of nature’s balm; a gift from God far from the turmoil raging outside.

No limits with Cerebral Palsy

by   May 9, 2024 with No Comments

By David Freeze

    I first met Kayla Sechler when we covered her sister Kassidy’s battle with heart disease. Kayla has her own impressive story about how she approaches life. Kayla has Cerebral Palsy, yet she’s taking life by the horns and charging forward.

    Back before Covid, I was able to see a mid-40’s female teacher with full blown Cerebral Palsy train for a year to finish her 5K. It remains the most moving experience related to running that I have ever witnessed when she crossed the finish line. Kayla is made of the same mold and just as inspiring as she committed to do the Love Thy Neighbor 5K last March 16th.   

     Cerebral Palsy is caused by an abnormality in the brain that happens before, during or after birth. Kayla was diagnosed at 18 months old with Spastic Diplegia Cerebral Palsy. This form of Cerebral Palsy affects the muscle tone and spasticity of the muscles. Luckily for Kayla, it only affects her legs.  Kayla said, “The form of CP I have affects the spasticity of my muscles, meaning that my brain is constantly sending signals to my leg muscles to continuously contract, causing stiffness.”

    The reason Kayla chose to participate in this 5K was to benefit her sister, while also completing a post-surgical goal to complete a 5K that she set back in January 2022 after her own big procedure. Doctors straightened her legs by breaking both femurs and her left tibia, along with an arch reconstruction on the left foot, tendon lengthening in both legs and a split tendon transfer in the right foot. After surgery she had two metal rods, 18 screws and two metal plates to hold her bones together as they healed. The eventual removal of the screws and plates helped with pain and her ability to walk. 

    Kayla described her 5K effort, “I felt great until about the mile and a half mark. My legs started getting a little shaky and I started feeling tired. I think what kept me going the most was having my former teacher, Ashley Lanning, by my side through the entire race. The final mile was the hardest for me as I was worn out. Having my sister, Kas, finish the race with me was super special and something I will never forget.”


    To offset the effects of CP, Kayla uses constant stretching and moving to keep her muscles as active as possible so that they don’t tighten up to the point where she is unable to walk without assistance or wheelchair bound.  

    Kayla’s calendar is full. She said, “I am a leader for Young Life of Rowan County, a program for high schoolers to come together and worship with one another. I am also a leader of a group called Circle of Friends for those with intellectual and physical disabilities at First Baptist Church in Salisbury, NC. I volunteered at Special Olympics during the past year and have been a volunteer for Vacation Bible School at First Reformed Church in Landis, NC.”


     While crediting her parents, Kayla said, “They have never failed to make sure I had everything I needed, whether it was seeing the best doctors or putting food on the table, my parents do absolutely everything in their power to provide for both my sister and me. At the age of four, I became a big sister, and I have to say that has been the biggest blessing in my life. We may not always agree with one another but with everything we have both gone through, she remains by my side through it all.”

   A 21-year-old junior at Catawba College majoring in Sport Management, Kayla hopes to eventually complete her master’s degree. In just a few short weeks, she begins an internship with the Winston-Salem Dash, a minor league affiliate to the Chicago White Sox. At Catawba, she does data analysis for the baseball team, and in the fall she begins volunteering her time with the football team as a football operations student manager.


    Kayla said, “I have many goals, but my biggest dream for as long as I can remember is working in the world of sports and being the gateway for other women with disabilities who want to do the same. After watching countless hours of sporting events, ranging from football to baseball, with a little bit of collegiate basketball and cheering on my sister in her many sporting events, I love being in the atmosphere of sports.” 

    And she added, “I am planning to do another 5K sometime in November that benefits Shriners Children’s Hospital-Greenville in South Carolina.”

     Kayla is a winner and a success in the making in all her endeavors.      A short update on Kassidy includes a recent hospital stay to change heart medications that can only be used short term. Your prayers would be greatly appreciated for both girls and their family.

Serving Others

by   May 8, 2024 with No Comments

By Ed Traut


1 Peter 4:10 Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.

  • When we can, we ought to serve and whatever talent or ability we have to use for His glory.
  • Serving others pleases God greatly.  It is as great as the first commandment – loving our neighbor. 
  • Grace comes in various forms – Gods grace manifest in so many different ways.  We serve a God of great variety and great depth, more than we can comprehend.

Prayer:  Lord I surrender myself and whatever gift is in me to be led by Your spirit and I trust in You to bring about Your purpose and plan in my life and use me to bless others and serve them.  I am willing and I yield myself to that in Jesus name.  Amen. 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Crazy

by   May 7, 2024 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

Do you ever get the impression that the world has gone completely crazy? Wisdom has left the building… the whole planet for that matter. I happened upon a comforting thought yesterday in the little book of Ephesians. Listen to this:

Speaking of Christ Jesus, it says. “Now He is far above any ruler, or authority, or power, or leader, or anything else- not only in this world, but also in the world to come. God has put all things under the authority of Christ.” -from Ephesians 1: 21,22

Apparently, I can rest in His wisdom. HE is in charge. I am not. Neither is anyone else really, no matter their title. This is not a political statement. It’s just a reminder from a Biblical point of view. Jesus Christ is above all earthly authority. Perhaps I should trust Him.

This is My Story

by   May 6, 2024 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

This is my story

This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior. All the day long.

The choir director would be flapping his arms all around.

When we got to the word ALL on the last verse, he held his arms up and we would stretch out and hold AAAA-LLLL as long as his arms were in the air.

Now, I occasionally still hear that song at church, so in my mind, I always stretch out the word ALL as we sing!

Why?

Because ALL is one of my favorite words.

Why?

Because ALL means ALL.

Not just some of the day, but ALL of the day!

Yes, I was supposed to praise my Savior ALL the day!

How was I supposed to do that?

At the time, as a teenager, I had a secret life that made me feel less worthy in the eyes of those at my church – or so I thought. I had problems. My days were certainly NOT 24 hours a day praise worthy – or so I thought.

After church on Sunday night, I would go home to a father who had been drinking.

It was my secret life and I was ashamed.

I was jealous of the others in my youth group.

They went home to perfect families – or so I thought.

When I went home, I took fear with me.

I carried fear into my home, and took fear to bed with me.

I would lay there with my eyes open, hoping that sleep would come.

But I knew that at some point, my father would be drinking and begin fussing at my mother.

It was a small mill house and I could hear every word.

I was scared.

I began to stay after school to help my teachers grade papers.

I wanted to stay at school ALL the day long.

Coincidence? No.

It was a God-incidence.

God was preparing me for a lifetime of teaching.

How are we supposed to praise our Savior all day long?

Guess what? It is as easy – because Jesus gives us joy – no matter our circumstance.

It is easy because Satan has no power over us – for we are children of God.

It is easy because we have access to grace.

It is easy because we are justified by faith.

It is easy because we can speak the name of Jesus – and He hears us!

I have a powerful testimony.

It is hard for me to understand how I was able to touch my Savior at a young age and how Jesus removed my fear and replaced it with peace – even in the middle of the night.

Your story is just as powerful – no matter whether it was full of trouble or whether you never had a problem.

Share your story.

Ask someone to share their story with you.

Sharing our story or hearing someone else’s story lifts us up spiritually.

It increases our faith.

Maybe your story is this, “I don’t really have a story. I always went to church. I grew up in a Christian home.”  Guess what? That is a great story! Share it. Offer hope.

Go home  to your friends and tell them the great things the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you. Mark 5:19

Sure, going to a foreign country to share Jesus is powerful – but we must also share Jesus in our homeland. The need is great.

“This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior all the day long…”

The next time you sing this in church – sing  the word ALL extra loudly – just for me.

It’s Not Easy Being Green

by   May 5, 2024 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

While many colors flood the landscape in spring, green may be the most welcome color – the lushness of life after the grays of winter, the sweetness of new baby grass, and flowering trees turning green, ready to embrace summer. Although blues are my favorite hues, greens are a close second. Some studies on color indicate that being surrounded by this secondary color can also refresh our mental health. 

As positively as green is viewed in nature, often it does not get the same treatment when it comes to people we view as green – inexperienced, immature, maybe naive. Certainly, the green of youth is a right of passage. Dues must be paid, after all. It is unfortunate, though, when we who are slightly more seasoned pass judgment on their vigor and passion with an air of condescension. There is so much joy and life to share and to glean when surrounded by “green.” 

For example, my husband and I attended a wonderful retreat at The Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove in Asheville, NC, last week. We enjoyed gathering with other church planters and sending churches to be equipped and encouraged. A talented and passionate young worship team led a crowd of mostly not young leaders in songs of reflection, worship, and praise. 

One song from their set was a popular modern worship anthem that we sang several times, often with our vision blurred from trails of tears:

I trust in God, my Savior

The one who will never fail

He will never fail

He didn’t fail you then 

He won’t fail you now

I sought the Lord, and He heard, and He answered

That’s why I trust Him.”

Moved by those truths in their own lives, these green worship leaders resonated with the message of their songs. How does a twenty-something know these truths? I can remember. I remember being on a worship team at that age, never imagining what God has for me now (which is NOT twenty-something). I remember the early days of marriage, the cancer journey of a spouse, the need for material provision, emotional comfort in distress, guidance for the journey, and how God was faithful then and is faithful now. 

It moved my spirit to see an auditorium of fellow believers who could each testify to the same truths, even if in different situations and stages of life. I hoped that just as the young team ministered to us, our worship and remembrance of God’s faithfulness also ministered to them, encouraging them for their uncharted unknowns. 

Last fall, I encouraged you to spend time with someone in the autumn of their lives. This season, I encourage you to spend regular time with someone in the spring of their life. Surely, you have wisdom to share, but some green, bright young men and women have a passion that can also invigorate and encourage you! We need each other. 

Ashlie Miller enjoys the beauty of green in nature and in young friends. You may contact her at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com

Growing Season

by   May 4, 2024 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            I recently had the opportunity to help my mother get her garden planted. At her age she has a hard time getting back up once she is kneeling. My brother took her shopping for “a few” vegetables. She wasn’t planning to do much this year. I lost count of how many tomato plants I put out. She also has peppers, squash, and cucumbers. She loves to grow things.

            I had a great feeling inside while driving home that evening. The closer I got to home the more this little thought started to whirl around in my mind. “Well, your Mom has her garden in and you don’t have anything in the ground yet.” The thought was spoiling my good feeling.

            I had a long list of things that needed my attention on Friday, and none of them was my garden. Saturday I was determined to make it to the garden center to find the seeds and plants I need to get my garden going. I went to my two favorite garden centers and found most of what I need for this growing season.

            I went out to the garden pretty late in the afternoon, determined I was going to get something in the ground before dark. It was unusually peaceful. The barking dogs were either in the house or asleep in the shade. There was a nice breeze blowing. The soil felt wonderful in my hands. I had tilled the soil a few weeks ago and it was in perfect condition. The first thing I put in was my tomatoes, which made me laugh because I normally plant them last. I put in some potatoes and peas and that was the end of my daylight.

            I came in the house feeling good. The garden was started. I can see the tomato plants from the house. I know there is plenty more to do out there but I got things started. I picked up the remaining seeds and plants today so I have everything that I am planning to put out. It looks like I may have to dodge a few showers this weekend to get the rest of the garden in.

            I am excited about the new gardening season and anxious to get it all in. My wife has called me the midnight gardener, and if that is what it takes before the rain this weekend that is what I will do. The soil is calling. I just have to find the time to get out there and do the work. There never seems to be enough time to get everything done, especially in spring and fall.

            I love planting and watching things grow. Sometimes when I get home from work I will go for a walk around the yard just to enjoy the things that are growing and blooming. I like watching the fruit, vegetables, and flowers grow.

 Much like watching my garden grow, I like seeing spiritual growth in my life. There are many different seasons in our spiritual journeys. I have been through a desert and hope never to return. I have been through quiet seasons where I knew I was putting down deeper roots. I have experienced seasons of fruitfulness. I can remember times that I felt like God was pruning me back. But the season I like best is the growing season. I like seeing my spiritual growth. I love when the Word teams with life on every page. Sometimes I only manage to read a couple of paragraphs during my quiet time because I am getting so much out of it.

            While growth and harvesting are probably our favorite spiritual seasons, we have to realize that each season plays an important part in our spiritual growth. We need to grow deep roots so we will endure the dry seasons. We may all love the warm sunshine, but we need the refreshment that comes from the rain showers. Each season is important if we will ultimately produce fruit for His kingdom. After all, He is the master gardener and He knows what we need to produce a bountiful harvest.

            I want to encourage you to enjoy the season God has you in at the moment. There are times that we need to rest in a quiet place so we will be ready for the challenges that lie just ahead. There are times for us to bud and bloom and there are times for us to enjoy a harvest. God is watching over us closely, so He will provide the optimal conditions for us to grow and produce a harvest. I think God takes great pleasure watching each of us grow.

Contact Doug Creamer at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

The Promise

by   May 3, 2024 with No Comments

                                                                     By Roger Barbee

            Were he alive, Fred Templeton would turn 79 on April 2. However, he died of lung cancer in August 1992–too young for him, his wife, and his two children. A young 51,  he was a fine English teacher at Surrattsville High School where he was also an outstanding coach of soccer and baseball.  He also coached youth soccer, basketball, and softball in the Rec League of Alexandria, where he lived.  As a teacher at St. Stephens/St. Agnes, the school his children attended, I casually knew Fred and his wife Sarah, but when his son Michael  enrolled in my freshman English class, he and I forged a bond cemented around Leslie Norris’ short story Shaving.

            During the late 1980’s, I had good results teaching Norris’ Shaving, the story of 17-year-old Barry whose father is dying from cancer. Coming home from a rugby match, Barry is told by his mother that his father, lying in the family dining room turned into a sick room, is uncomfortable because of his unshaven face. After drinking a glass of milk, Barry announces to his mother, “I’ll shave him.” He does, and in such a way that all students who read the story are moved in profound ways. Because of the positive results, I always taught Shaving until the news spread around school about Fred’s cancer. For the school year of 1991-’92, I chose not to use Shaving because Michael would be in my class, and I thought that would be too difficult for him. That year the school community watched in awe as Fred, who had taken a leave of absence from Surrattsville, continued to coach his Rec League teams while showing us how to live life at its fullest.  However, as he lived and battled, the cancer advanced in such a manner that in late August, 1992, as preparations for the coming school year were being made, the news spread that Fred was home, the family dining room having been turned into his sick room, and that if any of us at school wanted to see him, we should come quickly as his lungs were filling with fluid, and his death was imminent. My friend and fellow administrator, Roger Bowen, asked me to accompany him to visit Fred on a hot, late August morning. I declined, not wanting to see Fred in such a state. Little did I know, but when Roger Bowen returned from his visit with Fred and his

family, he gave me an envelope and said, “Fred asked me to give you this.” Asking him what it was, he answered, “I don’t know, it’s sealed.” Going to my office, I opened the envelope and saw a copy of Shaving, and a note in Sarah’s hand that read, “Fred wants you to have a copy of this story, one of his favorites.” Stunned, I immediately called her asking for a chance to see Fred, which she managed to give me that afternoon.

            Going into their townhouse, I saw Fred lying in the hospital bed that had been placed in what had been the dining room, just like in the story. I told him my story about Shaving and how I had chosen not to use it for Michael’s year in my class, and he told me how, when Michael had begun to give him his shots for pain, he was reminded of a story he had taught long ago. He sent his family looking through all his books, and his sister had found it, Shaving. Liking it, he wanted me to have a copy. As my time with Fred waned, I promised him that I would always teach Shaving and asked him if he had a particular date that he would like. He said, “Teach it today, the day I died.” I reminded him that school was not in session in late August, but then asked him when his birthday was. “April 2,” he answered. We then agreed on the teaching of Shaving on each April 2 and since it was his birthday, as the story was being read, cake would be served to the students. So, every April, since 1993, cake has been served while students listen to my reading of Shaving. That first year, his daughter Kate sat in my class, ate cake, and heard the story that is so much like her father and brother.

            In April 2005 I ran across a reference to Leslie Norris, who was living and teaching in the Midwest. I emailed him my account of his story and he responded, telling me that as a young boy growing up in Wales, he had shaved his father who was dying from cancer. He told how he had put off writing the story, but finally did. His father’s birthday was April 5, so since 2005 I have felt as if I read it for both fathers and their sons. It is a promise.         

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