Seasons

     I hear people saying, "Where did the summer go?" and wonder the same thing. With most of our usual summer activities held on schedule this year, the summer zipped by. We have only five more days until fall officially begins. But already the markets are filled with mums, pumpkins, and other things that silently shout fall is about to pounce on us.

  It's human nature to resist change. Though we might enjoy each season and appreciate a change once it's taken place, there's an undercurrent of anxiety that comes with the build up to the actual change. And though we've let go of the summer in a lot of ways by now, we can't help but hesitate to embrace the new season because we know what fall is leading up to.

   As the equinox creeps closer, the changes are barely noticeable and easy to ignore. It is easier to embrace the beginnings of fall while it is still summer, because we can safely enjoy fall without having to say goodbye to summer.  And then one day we look up and see fall is no longer approaching, it is here. We will flip the calendar to October and resign ourselves to the fact that the summer is over and gone. The change has come and we settle back to enjoy it.

 

The Many Different Seasons

There are many different seasons

In life that we go through,

Times of God's blessing and peace

And times of hardship too.

No matter what the season, 

We find that we are in, 

God is there to lead us on

And give us hope within.

And when the seasons of hardships

Have come into our lives,

We can be encouraged by God

For our hope is placed in Christ.

For we know it's only temporary

And will change as seasons do,

Though it feels like an eternity

And we wonder if we'll get through.

But God's rivers of mercy

Flow down from heaven above

To bring to us refreshment

And to touch us with His love.

So thank the Lord for the seasons,

As different as they are,

And for the growth that comes from it,

Bringing change within our hearts.

By M. S. Lowndes

To Vax or Not to Vax

   Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) is an autoimmune disease, so I was one of the first to qualify for a third shot of Moderna vaccine. I got it this morning. As we walked back to our car, Leroy had a brief conversation with the man parked next to us. He had a Trump/Pence sticker on his truck and was quick to let his opinions be known. He said if we would elect the right people next time we wouldn't have all this nonsense. I fail to see how electing the right person would cure a disease.

   The heated debates we were forced to endure all last year did not end after the election but continue on with the issues of wearing masks and getting vaccines. Each side is convinced they are right. I got so tired of things some people persisted in posting on Facebook that I unfollowed them. 

    I chose to get the vaccine and don't object to wearing a mask. That is my choice. Those who choose differently can do so. Posting things objecting to vaccines and masks only tells me what their opinion is and does not change mine. Some of the conspiracy theories are downright ridiculous. A friend of mine said Biden wants to kill off all the old people with the shots. I think she forgot Biden is one of the old people himself. One lady told me she doesn't think Covid is worse than any other disease. If someone in her family died from it I think she might reconsider.

    The more conservative people, and especially those with Amish background, are skeptical of modern medicine and favor natural remedies. That is their prerogative. But with an autoimmune disease like RA, natural remedies will not relieve the symptoms. When every joint is swollen and it hurts to move, the extreme pain can quickly convince a person to be willing to swallow pills that relieve the symptoms. 

    To Vax or not to Vax is a personal choice. Make your choice and let everyone else make theirs.  A wise man said, "In necessary things unity, in doubtful things liberty, in all things charity."  

Soul-searching

 It’s time for us to practice some national soul-searching

After the attacks on our nation on Sept. 11, 2001, President George W. Bush took to the airways to address the American people. Speaking to a nation in shock, he cast what had occurred in the framework of good and evil. “Today, our nation saw evil,” the president said. And he offered up solace in Psalm 23, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil for you are with me.”

Several days later, a number of evangelical pastors, including Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell Sr., picked up on the theme of good and evil, reward and punishment, and suggested we must look inside of our nation as well as outside. We must check ourselves.

Robertson issued a press release saying, “In a country rampant with materialism, internet pornography and lack of prayer, ‘God Almighty is lifting his protection from us.’” These pastors got major pushback for suggesting that this horrible occasion provided good reason for self-examination, and Bush disavowed them. The White House issued a statement saying: “The president believes that terrorists are responsible for these acts. … He does not share those views, and believes that those remarks are inappropriate.”

Of course, no pastor questioned who committed the acts of terror. They suggested that, along with the actions we take against the terrorists, we must also check our own moral state of affairs to try to understand why such a horrible act of violence could have been successfully carried out on our own soil.

We might recall that the pilots who flew those planes, transforming commercial airliners into lethal weapons, trained in our country.

And while these preparations in our own backyard for what occurred on Sept. 11, 2001, were taking place, President Bill Clinton, was preoccupied committing adultery in the Oval Office.

Now here we are, 20 years later, having spent more than $2 trillion in our operations in Afghanistan, with a loss of some 2,400 American lives. The Taliban, against whom we launched hostilities in 2001, is back in power. By some estimates, their control in Afghanistan is broader than it was in 2001.

Maybe today, as the U.S. withdraws from Afghanistan in despair, shame and confusion, and as we note 20 years since the loss of 2,977 American lives to terror in our homeland, there will be greater appreciation for doing some national soul-searching.

We needn’t just turn back to the admonitions of a few evangelical pastors 20 years ago. We can turn back to 1796, to the counsel provided to a young, new nation by President, George Washington in his farewell address. He reminded his countrymen that theirs is a country rooted in eternal truths and warned of detaching from those truths and allowing it to deteriorate into raw politics.

“Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. … Let it simply be asked: Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education … reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.

“It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government.”

Over the last 20 years, as a nation, we have moved further from these truths. Under President Joe Biden’s leadership, we have politics, secularism and moral relativism on steroids.

Let’s understand that we will have no clarity abroad until we get our house in order at home.

Star Parker, published in the Reading Eagle, August 26, 2021

The End of His Book

   The world is stunned with the Taliban's rapid takeover of Afghanistan before the withdrawal of American troops was completed. Fingers are being pointed in several directions to place the blame on different people or agencies. Who is to blame is not the most important issue in this situation. What we should be concerned about is the people who are caught in the crossfires. Some, probably knowing their lives were in danger, were so desperate to get out of the country they clung to the outside of an airliner and fell to their deaths when it took off. Two of the most vulnerable groups are those who worked with the American military and Christians. Separated from them by a great distance there is nothing we can physically do, but we can pray.

    Some are crying this is the beginning of the end of the United States as a world power. After having deserted Afghanistan, the Russians, Chinese, Syrians, and other powers will advance fearlessly, sure the U. S. will not come to aid of those they attack. They will steadily advance until they reach Israel and then the battle of Armageddon will begin. 

   I'm not saying they are wrong, but when I heard this I remembered the fear of Russia and the Communists that was very real in the 1950s and 60s. People built bomb shelters and stockpiled food. We were fed a steady diet of dire predictions that built unwarranted fear. I remember one time there was a massive power failure in New York City. We were told it was a test by the Russians who were planning to turn off the power across the country so we would be helpless and they could take over without firing a shot. It never happened.

     At the same time, the signs of Christ's return listed in Matthew 24 are present in our world today and increasing. Multiple wars have resulted in 82.4 million displaced people and created a refugee crisis. Huge fires, hurricanes, floods, and other natural disasters are increasing in frequency and intensity around the world. The planet, including the United States, is ripe for judgment.

   I am sure there will be consequences and after effects for years to come from this takeover in Afghanistan. What form that will take and how it will affect us personally I have no idea. If this country is taken over by the Communist or Islamic powers and America as we know it ceases to exist, the American people cannot place the blame on anyone but themselves. Our nation has turned its back on God and is rapidly becoming heathen. God said, "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil." The only path to preservation is to repent and turn back to God.

   One thing I do know is that, whether we live or die, we are secure in Christ. There is no need to panic and cower in fear. If the Islamic powers overtake our country and we are killed for our faith, it is not the end of all things. Christians have been persecuted from the day of Pentecost when the church began. Our ancestors were persecuted and killed in Europe and it continues to this day in various parts of the world. 

  I have been slowly working through reading the Martyrs Mirror this year. The torture those Anabaptists suffered is gruesome. But the book also contains many letters and statements of faith they wrote encouraging others to stand strong and true to their faith. Over and over, they write of suffering being a normal part of life and the joy it was to suffer for Christ's sake. The Martyrs Mirror was translated from Dutch to German to fortify the Mennonites in America for the difficulties of the French and Indian War that was looming on the horizon. It is now translated into English and a book every Anabaptist should read today. 

   God is sovereign. He sets up and takes down kings. He sees the big picture and knows what He is doing. He will work out His plan and His truth will triumph. I know that for a fact. I read the end of His Book.

    

   

 

Laundry Days

    Yesterday when I was ironing I thought about how much that chore has changed in the last fifty years. I still iron every week but there are only a few pieces and it doesn't take long. When I was still at home, my mom, sister, and I each spent several hours ironing every week. 

   Mom washed clothes at least twice a week and bedding on another day. By the time I was old enough to do laundry, her wringer washer had been replaced with an automatic Norge washer. She had a lot of trouble with it and the repairman came often enough to know us by name. 

   Mom starched dress shirts and dresses after they were washed. Then it was ready to go out on the wash line. My sister and I learned to hang up laundry when we were quite young. The wash basket was too heavy for us to carry so Mom set it on the wagon and we pulled it out to the wash line. We were so small we had to stand on the wagon to reach the line.

   When the clothes were dry, they were brought in and folded to be put away. The things that needed to be ironed were sprinkled with water, rolled up, and stashed in a big plastic bag until we had time to iron. The sprinkling bottle was a big glass soda bottle with a corked sprinkler head stuck in the opening.

   Daddy wore green uniforms for his job as the foreman at New Holland Concrete. They made cement blocks. He wore a clean uniform every day and they needed to be ironed. We ironed dresses, aprons, slips, shirts, pants, handkerchiefs, and tablecloths. Everything was made of cotton and was not presentable without ironing. We thought we really had something when Mom got a steam iron. That reduced the need for sprinkling.

  Daddy's Sunday suit had to be dry cleaned, but Mom pressed his suit pants every week. First she lay a damp teatowel on the pants and ironed over it to steam the pants. Then she replaced the teatowel with a piece of newspaper and ironed over that to make a sharp crease in the pants. 

   One day while I was ironing Daddy's uniform pants, I boldly declared that when I get married it will be to be a man with short legs so it doesn't take so long to iron his pants. And I did too! 😀

   However, by the time I got married fabrics were changing. Something called Perma-press was on the market. These new fabrics did not need ironing when they were dried in the dryer. A whole load of pants could be washed and put away without ironing. I learned to read labels when I went shopping and not buy anything that was 100% cotton.

   I washed something almost every day when our children were all at home. Now I wash once a week. Starching and sprinkling were eliminated years ago. I keep a can of spray starch on hand for dresser scarves. One can lasts for years. I still hang laundry on the line whenever the weather permits, but I don't iron more than a few pieces each week. 

   I got the best of both worlds---a man with short legs and pants that don't need ironing. 

Jim Thorpe

   We often go out to eat to celebrate our anniversary, but this year we did something different and went on  a day trip to Jim Thorpe. The town was originally called Mauch Chunk, which was derived from the Native American term for Bear Mountain. In 1954, the town was renamed Jim Thorpe in honor of the Native American Olympic medal winner who died in 1953 and was buried there.
   We boarded the train at Reading at 8:30 a.m. for the 2.5 hour ride to Jim Thorpe in Carbon County. The train stopped at Port Clinton and Tamaqua to pick up more passengers. I didn't know what to expect but the train was full. There was a variety of Mennonite, Amish, and Brethren on board.

  

We arrived at the Jim Thorpe depot at 11:15 a.m. and had four hours to explore the town.

   First, we looked for a place to eat lunch. A sit-down restaurant would have taken too much time and cost too much. We walked up Broadway street a ways and found a place to get Chinese take outs. That was the best we were going to do in this tourist trap. Picnic tables were available on the sidewalk so that worked out fine.

   After we finished eating, we continued our hike uphill on Broadway street. There were several options for things to see. We chose to go to the old jail which, unfortunately, was near the end of the tourist sites. It was a long walk uphill and I had to stop and rest a couple times, but we made it and waited for the 1:20 tour to begin.

    

   The Old Jail was built in 1871 and occupied until 1995 as the Carbon County Prison. The Old Jail contains 28 original cells, Warden's living quarters, and 16 eerie dungeon cells in the basement. An excellent example of 19th Century prison architecture, it is listed on the National Register of Historic Buildings.

    This was a no-frills jail and the inmates were not coddled with fine amenities. This is one of the cells on the main floor.

   A cell in the dungeon had only a mat on the floor to sleep on, a blanket, and a bucket for waste. Notice the shackles on the wall with which the prisoner was secured. The light was for our benefit; the prisoner was kept in the dark.

  The Molly Maguires were Irish coal miners in northeast Pennsylvania during the 1800s who banded together for justice against inhumane, corrupt, and oppressive treatment by the coal companies. In 1877 four miners were accused of murder, convicted through unfair trials and hanged together on gallows inside the Old Jail. In 1887 and 1879 three more accused Mollies were hanged here. Before his hanging one man placed his had firmly on the wall of his cell stating his handprint would remain forever as a sign of his innocence. The handprint has been dug out, replastered and repainted but still remains on the wall of Cell 17. We saw it but no photos were allowed. 

   It was horrible to think of the racism that caused these men to be hanged here. Even worse, 400 people crowded into the jail to watch. There are no hangings today. We sat on the chairs to hear the story of how a man escaped from the jail. He had two hours of freedom and then was captured and brought back with more time slapped on his sentence.

  After the tour we ambled back toward the train station. It was downhill now and easier going. The Victorian buildings in the historic section of this town are colorfully painted. Many of them house small shops but some are private homes. These are some of my favorites.

  By the time we got to the park next to the train station it was too late to go see anything else, and besides, I had walked enough. We sat in the park and visited with the other Mennonites, Amish, and Brethren people who were also waiting for the train. It loaded at 3:30 and pulled out at 3:50. We retraced the route, passing two large lakes and going over a high trestle bridge. I was glad I couldn't see what was below us. The Hometown Trestle bridge was built in 1931 and stands 161 ft. above the gorge.

  We got back to Reading at 6 p.m. It was a long but interesting day. There were many more things we could have seen or done but the time was too short for us slow pokes to do more. If you're young and ambitious there is a choice of outdoor activities like hiking, biking, white water rafting, etc. It's not too far for us to drive there but the train trip was something different. 

   And that concludes our 54th anniversary. We're happily going to 55 next year.

54 Years of Family History

 This post covers 54 years of recent history, beginning on July 15, 1967 when we said "I do." Unfortunately, we have lost four of our bridal party in the past few years. Only my sister and Leroy's sister are still with us.

We lived in a rented house until October 1968 when we moved into a new house we built. We still live in the same house, although it has seen many changes and additions in fifty-four years. (This photo was in 1989 after we added two more bays to the second garage. The first two bays were built in 1976.)

Our first son was born in July 1968. In August 1969, we had two sons.

A daughter joined the family in 1971,

And another son in 1975.

Our fourth son was stillborn in 1978.

Our family was completed with two more sons who were added in 1980 and 1983. This photo is from 1984.

The children were growing up fast. This family photo was in 1987.

Thinking our family was complete was a mistake. It grew again in 1991 when our daughter married and gave us a son-in-law. This family photo was taken in 1992 for our 25th wedding anniversary.

We lost Steve in January 1993 as the result of an accident. This picture was taken in November 1992 on his eighteenth birthday.

The family continued to grow as we added more in-laws and grandchildren. These photo were taken in 1999 and 2004.

We celebrated our fortieth anniversary in 2007. For some unknown reason we did not take a family picture and only had one taken of ourselves.

 

The next family picture was taken in 2010 with a third daughter-in-law added.

We celebrated our 50th anniversary in 2017. 

A fourth daughter-in-law was in the picture as well as the wife of a grandson. 

In the last four years we have added one more grandchild, another grandson has married, and we have three great-grandchildren. It's time to take another family picture next year!

These photos only show the growth of our family. What shall I say more? The time would fail me to tell of the weekends at the cabin, trips, picnics, reunions, birthdays, picking peas, husking corn, cars, graduations, weddings . . . the list is endless. There have been some bumps in the road but it's been a good life. We are blessed and grateful!