Strengthened Faith

by   June 21, 2023 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Dear Doug,


Romans 4:20 Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God,

  • The enemies target is to cause us to waiver in our faith.
  • It is unbelief that renders faith weaker, not the amount of faith!
  • Being strengthened in faith and to continue glorifying God regardless of how things look.

Prayer:  Lord help me to be strengthened in my faith and to glorify You continually and to never look at the circumstances or let them determine where my faith stands, but rather by Your word.  I praise You for Your faithfulness.  I love You Lord.  Amen.

  
Ed Traut

Prophetic Life

Lynna’s 68

by   June 20, 2023 with No Comments

We’re 68. Well … I am. Though he is a few months younger than me, David knows enough to claim my same age.

How well he remembers the time we filled out visitor cards at a church in South Carolina. Since I had already turned 25, I had to check the age box marked 24-35. He had not yet had his birthday so he jauntily checked the age box marked 18-24 and made sure I saw it. That day became a day to remember in our young marriage.

For me, remembering anything is getting harder and harder. David and I have a running game of “Who’s that guy?” You know, the one who used to coach the New Orleans Saints. Or who’s the dude who played in Die Hard? Or the rich one who owns Tesla? We also play the game, “Why am I in the kitchen?” That one’s easier because I usually assume I’m there to get a snack. It’s kind of a win win. I can always go back later when I remember why I really went there… and get another snack.

Anyway, we are sixty-eight. And we’ve been around long enough to have been through some hard things. It’s easy to remember the time our kids were small and we were kicked out of church by a jealous preacher. The times we sat with dying parents and held their hand until they passed; the foreclosure on the house we had poured heart and soul into; the loss of our first grandson before he breathed life; the diagnosis of cancer and the horrible season of chemo. Those things are branded on our souls it seems.

But what is important to remember is the way the Lord saw us through them. The time He sent unusual strength when my big strong hero keeled over one night; those times the Lord provided more than enough when we had no resources of our own. How He gently held us as we walked through the very shadow of death.

Psalm 78 mentions many occasions when the Lord took great care of His people. Yet they continually forgot His provision, even demanding things they craved. It goes so far as to say, “Despite His wonders, they refused to trust Him.” The Psalm also says that they “grieved Him; they did not remember His power or how He rescued them.”

Let’s not grieve the Lord. Let’s not demand things of Him as if we know best. He appreciates being remembered and He is honored when we trust Him. All our lives He has provided, comforted, and loved us to Himself. Personally, I have to say that I do not understand Him. And I sure don’t know why He puts us through the things He does. But in every part of life, I’ve learned that He will carry me til the end. Then later, looking back on the trouble, I can remember this. “When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs.” -Psalm 84:6 NLT

Last One Chosen

by   June 19, 2023 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

As a student in a classroom of 4th graders, recess would finally arrive. Our teacher would choose captains for the kickball teams, often based off who was yelling out their name the loudest. I never raised my hand, and certainly never yelled, “Me! Me! Me!”

The captains would then choose their team.

I was always chosen last.

My kickball skillset included one strategy. Connect my foot to the huge red ball when it was rolled to me. Yes, sometimes I missed it. Sometimes, I kicked the ball mightily, and it would creep toward the pitcher, as I barreled toward first base. The pitcher would pick up the ball and hit me with it. I was an easy out.

In today’s world, my mother would have signed me up for kickball lessons after school, so I could improve, but I just had to deal with my ineptness on my own.

Did I try? Yes.

Did I give it my everything? Yes.

Was that enough? No.

I had zero athleticism.

The torturous daily kickball games continued. Finally, one day, my teacher came to my rescue as she called out my name. As I ran toward her, I saw a brand new red ink pen and a stack of papers. She had chosen me to grade the spelling tests! My teaching career had begun.

That year of lacking kickball skills brought about the opportunity for me to grade papers for the teacher each day. Grading papers each day brought about God putting a desire in my heart to have a teaching career.

No, the kickball skillset made up of knowledge, ability, and experience — kicking, throwing, catching, running the bases, rolling the ball — was not my area of giftedness.

Sitting on the grassy hill at the edge of the playground grading papers for my teacher with her red pen was much better!

Not even once would I have been able to envision my 40-year teaching career that was to come, where my students played kickball often. Guess who got to roll the ball then?

God knew the plans he had for me — to give me hope and a future — by putting that desire for a teaching career in my heart.

God’s handprints are on our lives from the beginning.

As a skinny, short, non-athletic little girl on that playground, God was doing a great work in my heart. He was preparing my steps and setting my path for my future.

He guided my teacher to hand me that red pen. I guess I was not the last one chosen after all.

John 15:16 says, “You did not choose me, but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain.”

Hang on to that promise, my friends. He chose us and He appointed us. Our fruit will remain!

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.

Making it a Happier Father’s Day for Those Who Grieve

by   June 18, 2023 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

While many meet Mother’s Day with joy and appreciation, Father’s Day often comes differently. There may be situations where the father is not physically or emotionally present in the home. Father’s Day has always been a little different for me because my father passed away when he and I were young. Due to the unique circumstances of his upbringing, I do not have a connection to his ancestors or close friends from his childhood. Because he died young, few adult friends can share memories with me.

For many years, I struggled in my grief process. Like many of my generation, I have few photos of my dad or me with him, nor do I have many material possessions that belonged to him. There are not many tangible mementos to prompt my recollections. As you can imagine, and maybe experience yourself, I yearn to have memories that keep him alive in my heart and mind. I am grateful for those who did know him and who share memories – any memories – with me so that I can envision who he was.

There are many studies regarding the antidote that gratitude can be for depression and anxiety. Remembering good things and expressing thankfulness for a person or a season in life can be a salve to soothe aching hearts. In the Bible, Paul often begins his letters with gratitude for the people he is writing to. He mentions remembering and giving thanks for them even when he is about to confront a problem. Gratitude helps. Psalm 112:6 talks of how the righteous will be remembered forever. Again, when we reflect on their memories, gratitude helps.

This Father’s Day, I am asking you to do something for yourself or someone else who may not have their father on this side of eternity and will approach this day with sadness. First, reminisce with gratitude that you had your father for as long as you did – the gift God gave you in giving Dad to you. Reflect on the good moments and even how you overcame the tough ones. Let the gratitude slowly melt away that sadness.

Secondly, ask others for their memories of your loved one. It can be cathartic, and you can often learn things that will encourage your heart about your loved one that you never knew. Through small stories, I have learned how sweet and kind my father was and how he was easy to be around.

Finally, if you know someone who has lost a father either recently or decades ago, would you consider sharing a favorite memory about that person with the loved one? It does not matter how small or trivial it is to you. That memory can add to the tapestry of who the person was to those around them. If the person helped direct you or guided you in a way others may not know, share that. Express your gratitude for the role – however small or profound – that they had in your life. Those impactful memories will impact their loved ones today.

These types of memorial days can be overwhelming to many people. We can seize the moment to allow thankfulness to do its work in us or help others along the way to grow through the lifelong process of grief. We can help make it a Happier Father’s Day.

Ashlie Miller is the daughter of the late James T. Hughes, who lived an all too brief but important life in North Carolina and served as a Marine.

Remembering Dad’s

by   June 17, 2023 with No Comments

By Doug Creamer

            I live at the end of a street with woods on one side. I enjoy the privacy and the coolness that the woods provide on a hot summer day. I often wait until late afternoon to cut my grass because the woods help shade my yard. One day while cutting the grass I was thinking about a book I would like to write someday. I was considering the possible dialog and the setting of the story when I looked down and saw a golf ball.

            It was sitting right at the edge of the woods. I stopped and stared and wondered if I was dreaming. What is a golf ball doing on the edge of the woods? I was immediately transported to my childhood. Twice in my life we lived with a golf course in the backyard. Most summer evenings after supper my dad, brother, and I would play a few holes of golf.

            The memory of playing and being out on the course is a strong and pleasant memory. While we were out there we also did something we called “ball-hawking.” This is when you walk along the edge of the woods and around the ponds looking for golf balls. Some days we would find brand new balls and other times we found what Dad termed shag balls. Those were the scuffed and scarred ones.

            Ball-hawking was something that I really enjoyed, and in fact dream about, from time to time. I think it’s like finding hidden treasure. Sometimes Dad would call me Eagle Eye because I was pretty good at finding lost balls. My trouble is that I was never very good at keeping an eye on a ball I was hitting.

            My dad was always a member of a golf club. Every year the club would have an annual Father-Son golf tournament. Since my father has two sons he would have to play two rounds of golf. My brother is much more competitive and a better player than I am. They used to do well in the tournaments. But one year when they thought they had a good chance of winning a trophy, it was my dad and I that won. I still have that trophy. 

            My dad, who is an age I am not allowed to write, still gets out and plays golf as often as his body will allow. He gets out and walks and encourages me to do the same. He even worked a part-time job until…I can’t put that age in the paper either.

            Dad climbed the corporate ladder and had a long career. There are many qualities from his working career that I remember and hope I picked up from him. He always dressed professionally, including a suit, when I was a kid. I always tried to look professional in my job because I met with employers and community leaders.

            Dad has always had high ethical standards. He is a numbers guy and always made sure the numbers were correct. Speaking of numbers, he could easily do calculations in his head. I could call out three numbers and he could instantly add them in his head. He also knew his times tables. I am glad that I inherited his ability.

            Dad also has the ability to see things from multiple points of view. He loves to discuss hot topics and will sometimes play devil’s advocate to his own point of view just to keep the discussion going. This gift comes in handy when I have faced life choices. He can see things from perspectives I haven’t considered and ask me questions that I need to consider before I make my final decision.

            When we think about our fathers we have to realize that they were not perfect. The Good News is we have a Heavenly Father who is perfect. He loves you unconditionally. He will never leave you or forsake you. He sees the best in you and is planning a great future for you. He keeps a close watch on you. He always has time for you and looks forward to your next encounter. He is a good, good Father.

            I want to encourage you to remember and honor your earthly father. I know he wasn’t perfect, but reflect on those qualities that you appreciate about him. Remember to also connect with your Heavenly Father, who is perfect and loves you with an everlasting love. Allow His grace and mercy to wash over you and give you perfect peace. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers in my audience…Have a blessed day!

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

Having Courage does not Mean a Lack of Fear

by   June 16, 2023 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

Holy Week during the COVID-19 virus has been difficult. For safety of others and ourselves, we Christians cannot celebrate His victory over death as we usually have. Passover is also affected in the same way. But because we cannot be together does not prohibit us from worshipping.

As I was riding this morning, the wind blew the many pine trees in our front yard. Riding on the stationary I saw their tops whipping around as pinecones fell. The dogwood next to me showered the ground with bright, white flowers. Their blanketing of the area stirred the memory of the myth I was taught which claimed that the four petals formed the shape of the Cross and the roan color at the end of each symbolized the blood of Jesus. A sweet memory of a harmless myth taught to many children.

That memory of long-past Easters moved me to think of the Twelve, for whatever reason. Riding the stationary, gusts blowing pollen about, I thought of that group of varied men. They carry such importance for Christians, yet we know so little of them. And what we do know, would not be inspiring if we did not know the conclusion of their collected and individual stories. They each, even the traitor, have profiles, which like all profiles, may or may not be accurate.

One, Thomas, is sometimes thought of as being “doubting” because of words he spoke when not present in the Upper Room. Be that as you  wish, I  like to remember John’s words of Thomas in his Gospel, 11:16. The brother apostle writes: “Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellow-disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him [Jesus].,

Knowing that Jesus faced certain death by walking to Bethany, which was two miles east of Jerusalem, Thomas spoke to the other disciples, telling them that they, and he, should go with their Master to die. William Barclay writes that Thomas’ words show his courage and loyalty, even if he were afraid. That is the Thomas I revere.

By my ride’s conclusion, I realized that we need to be more like Thomas. We all are chosen by God, but we must have the needed courage to follow His path. On this Good Friday during the COVID-19 virus, let us all have the strength of Thomas. 

David’s Travels Continue

by   June 15, 2023 with No Comments

By David Freeze

I ended my day on May 17 in Sylva, nearest to my first college at Western Carolina University. Sylva got a railroad in 1913 and with it gained the county seat designation for Jackson County. The courthouse, built in 1914, is one of the most spectacular I’ve seen because it sits on top of the highest hill at the end of Main Street.

Thomas Edison and Franklin Delano Roosevelt both visited Sylva, and three movies were partially filmed here. Those movies included “Deliverance,” “The Fugitive” and “Three Billboards Outside.” Downtown Sylva is flat with a familiar smell in the air on the evening I explored the town. Paper mills are common in the area, and that smell is certainly distinct.

I spent the night at the Blue Ridge Inn, a super nice place near the end of Main Street and the courthouse, and right across from the Dr. Delos Dexter Hooper house. The Hooper house was built in 1906 and is the local visitor center. Sylva is wonderful with plenty of interesting shops, restaurants and bookstores, all in the middle of its social district. A different section of town has many of the recognizable national stores.

Up early on May 18, I made the short drive to Bryson City, county seat for Swain County and part of the original Cherokee land. The town is known for the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad, and it certainly dominates the town. The GSMR operates on former Southern Railway rails between Dillsboro and Bryson City while serving over 200,000 riders a year. Early investors were able to lease the track just 48 hours before Norfolk Southern would have begun dismantling it. With locomotives already running, the first train was ready to roll out early this morning.

Native Americans have been living and hunting along the Tuckasegee River, which flows through town, for over 14,000 years. Originally called Charleston and incorporated in 1887, the name was changed to Bryson City when the county seat was formed from the combination of parts from Jackson and Macon counties. The name change honored Thaddeus Bryson, a key player in local development.

The current courthouse was built in 1908, the third in the town’s history. The Calhoun House Hotel was built in 1904 and is still in use today. Lots of real estate offices are on Main Street, and the town is surrounded by mountains on all sides, including the Great Smokey’s and the Nantahala National Forrest.

Next on a still early morning was Robbinsville, seat of Graham County. Fort Montgomery, built to help with the removal of the Cherokee, was granted a post office in 1849, and the name was changed to Robbinsville in 1874. Most claim Robbinsville was named after Sen. James L. Robinson of Macon County, but some believed the name may have been derived from Mr. Robbins of Clay County, who taught at the first school.

Parts of The Fugitive were filmed here, as was “Nell,” starring Jodie Foster, and “A Walk in the Woods.” The current courthouse was finished in 1842 and sits at 12 Main Street. Robbinsville’s most famous resident was country singer and pianist Ronnie Milsap, honored by a mural near the courthouse.

Murphy was next, the farthest western town in North Carolina, closest to the Tennessee line. It is at the confluence of the Hiwassee and Valley Rivers and had been called Huntington and Murphey before settling on Murphy. The county seat of Cherokee county, Murphy is situated on Cherokee homelands. The town was not incorporated until 1851, after Cherokee county was formed from Macon County in 1839.

In 1836, the U.S. Army built Fort Butler in town to help with the removal of the Cherokee, which became widely known as the Trail of Tears. The Cherokee County courthouse was built in 1927 and is faced with locally sourced blue marble. Abraham Enloe, purported by historians to be Abraham Lincoln’s father, is buried in town.

I took the time to reminisce a little about my run across N.C., with Murphy as the first night on the road. I visited the Sunset Motel and saw other familiar sites, including Walmart where I got a radio to help pass the time on the road. Murphy has beautiful mountain themed portraits posted outdoors around town. My best encounter in town was with Phil Williams, who claimed he was just a worker at the Red Brick Deli. Born up north, Phil was living in Florida and decided to leave the heat and humidity behind and become a halfback (someone who only moves halfway back to the north). Phil told me, “Murphy’s a wonderful town! I’m so glad we live here. We have a festival every Thursday afternoon at 5 p.m.” I bought a fantastic huge homemade brownie. Phil said one day that he and his wife were going to drive the state all the way to the coast, to which I said, “Just get on U.S. 64 and follow it all the way to the Outer Banks. I did it on foot.”

I really enjoyed Murphy, another thriving and fun little town, surrounded by history and beautiful mountain vistas. All the western N.C. towns so far are historic and fun. We have now totaled 46 counties visited and this segment included running, walking and photos for 6.31 miles. Back soon with the push to halfway!

Total Well Being

by   June 14, 2023 with No Comments

By Ed Traut

Numbers 6:26 the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace. ” ’

  • When the Lord ‘turns His face’, it means that God will actually take time out, pay attention to and focus on us.  A major thing for the Creator of heaven and earth.
  • When God turns His face towards us we can ask Him, pray and call upon Him and He will do miracles for us.
  • Peace – which is the original Hebrew word of Shalom meaning more than just peace, but to give us complete well-being contentment and fullness of life.  There is nothing to compare with it.

Prayer:  Lord, how I praise You for Your goodness and that Your focus and Your help is always there.  Your blessings upon my and my families lives.  Thank You for the peace which passes all understanding and this great well-being of the Shalom that You give us.  I am so grateful.  I lift my hands in praise to You today.  Amen. 

Ed Traut
Prophetic Life

Just Happy

by   June 13, 2023 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

My sister’s name popped up on my new smart phone. Actually it’s a stupid phone but you won’t hear me complain. Or recite the many ways it aggravates me. No, I am not going to mention how the things that used to be easy on my old dumb phone are nearly impossible on my new smart phone. Like adding my friend Edith to my contacts. Poor gal. Now she has to be Edirh because I can’t figure out how to edit her name. Annyyywayyy… my sister called. “Happy Anniversary!” she joyfully proclaimed. “Thanks,” I answered. “But it’s tomorrow.”


“Oh… well happy 50th anniversary tomorrow! It’s a big one!” she exclaimed.


“Actually it’s number 49, but thank you,” I answered.


“Oh… well at least I was the first to congratulate you! Hope y’all have a wonderful day… tomorrow.” “Thanks sweet sistuh,” I replied. I didn’t have the heart to tell her one of our daughters had just stopped by with eggs from her prolific chickens and had already congratulated us. Not sure how people remember these things. I’m not even checking Facebook anymore. But somehow they know that felicitations are in order. Surely they don’t still use a paper calendar like I do. In fact I consider it a fun event to transfer all the important dates to my new paper calendar every January. Yep. I’m still that person.


What’s even better is that my hubba remembered our anniversary and gave me the best gift. He painted our bedroom. Sappy sentimental man. The gift is very special to me because I know how difficult it is for him to get down on his knees to trim around the baseboard. He assured me it wasn’t hard at all. “It’s the getting back up that’s hard,” he smiled that sexy smile and my heart melted. Yep. He’s still got it.


On our actual anniversary we REALLY got hot and bothered. He took me to Rufty’s Garden Shop to pick out flowers for around the mailbox. During the last year or so, I’ve been unable to go anywhere because of chronic pain. Well, except for the doctor’s office. But David suggested that a quick trip from our house over to Innes Street probably wouldn’t overtax me too much; especially if I didn’t wear myself out getting ready. So I threw a summer scarf around my lovely housedress. David pulled into the crowded lot and I was happy to spot the perfect heat tolerant plants. He scurried inside to make our purchase while I waited in the car. After he received a hug from the wife of his youth, he turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. Thus the hot and bothered.


Sweat ran down the back of my lovely housedress. Mama warned us girls to never go out in public without getting “done up.” She always added, “That’s when you’ll run into your old boyfriend for sure!” Well praise God I married my old boyfriend and the last thing on his mind at that point was my attire.


The kind folks at Rufty’s took time in their very busy Friday to help. As they, along with David worked in the heat to jumpstart the battery, I contemplated removing my scarf. But I didn’t because, you know… housedress. Instead I prayed that the Lord would intervene on our behalf so I wouldn’t have to hitch a ride in all my loveliness. At least I had on my good… flip flops. God heard the prayers of a desperate poorly dressed woman. Eventually we were back on the road for the short trip home to the magical land of Clarkville. It’s a wonderful place, hot at times, but always full of adventure. Laced with sweet surprises like fresh eggs. Plus kind people, and blessings heaped upon blessings. Happy half century to us!


Well… you know… 49.

Language From the Heart

by   June 12, 2023 with No Comments

By Ann Farabee

I am a pretty calm person, but the sigh happened. I am happy for those of you who have a perfect life, and it won’t hurt my feelings if you read no further. You may not understand the sigh.

My normal day starts very early and is always followed by lots of hard work. The only sit-downs are in the car, and to eat, which can also be done while standing. My schedule is totally full. Collapsing into bed at night is the best!

But, on this day, while standing in the most popular spot in my home — the kitchen — and trying to keep the family routine running like clockwork, going from food to homework to food to bed — you understand. Well, for some reason total frustration hit me. I stopped and looked around. I was exhausted. Without even thinking, I let out a breath, followed by a deep, audible sigh.

Two grandsons and the husband stopped and looked.

In my head, I think I wanted to scream, “I’m done! I have had it! I’m tired and frustrated!” But, it came out as a deep sigh.

I calmly reset myself.

And my family members calmly reset themselves, too. We continued.

A sigh is defined as a long, deep, audible breath expressing frustration, sadness, tiredness, resignation or sometimes relief.

As soon as my sigh happened, I remembered Mark 8:12, because the first part of the verse has stuck with me, “And He sighed deeply in His spirit.” This was after the Pharisees had begun to question Jesus, demanding a sign from heaven and trying to explain away His miracles.

The comment surely hurt Jesus, and the deep sigh in His spirit came out.

That hurts me. And makes me wonder. Do I make Jesus sigh deeply when I worry, when I don’t pray, when I sin or when I show unbelief?

Jesus is right there, with me. Living in my heart. But, yes… I make Him sigh. Sometimes, deeply.

That moment in the kitchen stopped two grandsons and my husband in their tracks. It spoke volumes in my home that evening, but not nearly as loudly as it spoke to my heart. What seemed at that moment to say, “I’m done,” really was filled with deep emotion and great love. I wasn’t done and I knew it.

It was a language from my heart. It said I was tired, but I had miles to go — and a purpose to fulfill in my home — and I planned to go all the way.

When Jesus sighed deeply, it may have been out of frustration, but it was also out of deep emotion and deep love. He wasn’t done and He knew it. There was no place to stop. He had a purpose to fulfill in the world for all the world. He had further to go and He planned to go all the way — to the cross — for all of us.

What a beautiful reminder is this language of love straight from His heart to ours.

Even if we make Him sigh deeply, He still loves us. Jesus sighing deeply, in his spirit, and continuing to love us in spite of us.

That’s the good stuff — I mean, the God stuff.

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.

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