Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 7

Acting on it

 

WhenI started my December blog series, I thought I would go through the Bible for afull year of posts. I thought I should share the actual stories instead ofalways just the verses that inspire me and, I hope, inspire you.

Herewe are on the first of June and I honestly don’t know where that idea went to.Okay, so I will plow forward at this point and see how it goes.

The Great Commission

Then the eleven disciples left forGalilee, going to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they sawhim, they worshiped him—but some of them doubted!

Jesus came and told his disciples, “I havebeen given all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and makedisciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and theSon and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands Ihave given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end ofthe age.” (Matthew 28:16-20, New Living Translation)

Thelast words of Jesus in the book of Matthew are like something you would hear atthe end of an action movie, where the hero says goodbye to his fans, but heneeds to leave it open for the sequel. The Book of Acts would be the firstsequel to the story of Jesus.

The first book I wrote was abouteverything Jesus began to do and teach until the day he was taken up intoheaven. Before this, with the help of the Holy Spirit, Jesus told the apostleshe had chosen what they should do. (Acts 1:1-2, New Century Version)

Andso, the next act in the life of the disciples begins. Appropriately titled theBook of Acts, it was written by Luke, the physician who wrote the gospel, whichbears his name.

InActs, we read about the travels of the disciples as they spread the gospel ofJesus Christ. We learn about new apostles, the most famous being Paul. We hearof several of them being martyred for their faith.

I’dlove to share all of those stories and more, but we’ll see how much time Ihave. In the meantime, however, you could start reading those stories on yourown. I hope you do.

(The picture above is from my second trip toKenya in 2013, taken on a rutted road near the village of Saikeri. It remindsme of the desolate roads the first disciples traveled, except this one has muchmore greenery.)

This Beautiful Time of Year

 

It is that time of year, beautiful in the woods with leaves and flowers popping out in the warmer weather. But something else is popping out. 

I was much tougher when I was a kid than Iam now. Back in the day, after we yanked a stuck wood tick off of our leg, we'dtwist the little bugger's body into two with our bare fingernails.

Or if we were in the house, we might flushit down the toilet if Dad wasn't around. He'd yell at us for wasting water.

If Dad was around, he would light a matchand burn the scallywag. I can't remember, though, what he burned it on. Theground? His pant leg? His finger? Any of those locations would explain a lot.

But here we are in 2025, and I'm an adultmaking adult choices. But, man, those wood ticks are still wicked this time ofyear. And killing one can still be highly satisfying.

A few weeks ago, I was ironing a piece offabric I had bought at Joann Fabrics, coz you know they are going out ofbusiness, so I had to buy lots of cloth I didn't need.

I saw a dark speck on the end of theironing board. What is that? I asked myself.

Ohhh,nooo, a wood tick. How did it get on my ironing board? Who knows, it's just thecurse of living in the woods and having a dog in the house again.

But there I stood with the ultimatekilling machine in my hand—a hot iron.

           Ilowered my weapon to the villain until it was a millimeter over its nasty head.The steam kicked in, and the tick's legs curled under it.

Total and complete satisfaction on mypart. But I still flushed the tiny carcass down the toilet.

(I didn't take a picture of my back yard just for this post, because I have so many pictures of my back yard. Or not. The one above is from 2014 and is the only spring-time one I could find.) 

Journal of Our Journeys

 Years ago, I wrote about the family camping trips I went on as a kid. I posted them to my blog, along with scanned, often black and white pictures from those travels. Recently, I dragged out those stories and decided to edit them and slap them into a book. It won't be a book I will promote to the masses or to critical strangers, but a book to share with my family and interested close friends. Or with the innocent followers of my blog. 

Over the next twenty Wednesdays, I'll share a chapter a week from the Journal of Our Journeys. And maybe someday, it will be available as a paperback for you to hold in your hands. 

Chapter 1 - " The FamilyVacation"

"When I was achild... I thought like a child." 1 Corinthians13:11 (NIV)

 

Whichis why, when I was a kid, I thought that since my family went on a trip everysummer, everyone else's must have too. I don't know why because none of myfriends ever went on a vacation with their families. My family, however, didtravel somewhere every summer. These family trips were never spectacular, novacations in the south of France or even south of the Border.

          My middle-school friend once asked meif Mac, our family mutt, stayed in the hotel with us on vacation. I wasdumbfounded. Hotel? I can count on one hand the number of times I stayed in a motel,hotel, or inn before I was old enough to drop out of college. I must not havebeen a very sharing friend not to have told her about the camper.

          Nope, we never stayed in motels oreven resort cabins. We slept, ate, and played cribbage in Dad's pickup camper.Along with the faithful dog.

           It was a simpler time.People didn't have to jump on a plane and travel halfway around the world tosee new and different things. Growing up in the sixties and seventies in therural upper Midwest, it took very little actually to get us excited. Everythingwas new and different for my sister Pat and me. Everything was an adventure forus. And everywhere we went, our eyes bugged out in wonder and awe. And ourlungs filled with laughter.

           I could never imagine havinghad a childhood like the kids today. Where it is go, go, go, all the time,non-stop. A barrage of internet images, high-speed everything, informationoverload, and your favorite song is always available on YouTube. A cell phonein everyone's hand, a finger or thumb scrolling up or tap, tap, tapping in anattempt to get more points than Rusty McNutts, who you assume is anothertwelve-year-old but is actually a forty-year-old creeper.

And it never stops, even on vacation.While riding down the road, today’s kids watch cartoons on the TV screen in theback seat of the family mini-van, instead of absorbing all the marvels passingthem by on the side of the road.

           Mine is the lastgeneration to live through that simpler time. We didn't know anything. Wedidn't get carpal tunnel or tech-neck. We ate SpaghettiOs for supper andWheaties for breakfast. We didn't play team sports; we played dodgeball andtetherball at recess unless there was snow, and then we had snowball fights.And that's the way it was.

           All those memories froman uncomplicated youth. It was a time when it was all right to spend time withjust Mom, Dad, your sister, and, of course, the dog.

           As if I had a choice.

Power of Eternity

             God loved the world so much that he gavehis one and only Son so that whoever believes in him may not be lost, but haveeternal life. (John 3:16, New Century Version)

Overthe last few months, I’ve been dealing with paperwork for my brother. Ten daysago, his healthcare provider officially diagnosed him with dementia andactivated his Power of Attorney for Healthcare. When my brother signed thePower of Attorney for Finances a few weeks before, I didn’t realize it would gointo effect immediately after signing. Good thing, too, because I quickly foundout how much he had botched up his bills.  

Recently,someone else I know was talking about those kinds of papers. I think I misheardher, but it sounded like she said, “Power of Eternity”.

Ikind of like that, though. Isn’t what happens to us in eternity so much moreimportant than what happens to us now? In the long run, it doesn’t matter whopays our bills if we mentally can’t or who chooses our nursing home when thetime comes. What matters is that when we leave this earth, we have embraced thepower of eternity – we have accepted Jesus Christ as our Savior. And though mybrother may be lost right now, because of his belief, God will grant himeternal life.

My brother and oldest sister, around 1948. Aren't they the cutest? 

Being a Survivor

The premise ofbeing the last “survivor” on a deserted island sounded all right at first. Thenthe contestants started forming “alliances” in order to push out othercompetitors. But in the end, if only one contender remains to win the onemillion dollars, why would anyone trust anyone else?

I thought theyshould redesign the show so that everyone needs to work together to split themillion dollars, and if one loses, they all lose. But where would be the fun inthat, right?  

Recently, though,it has dawned on me that the men and women running our government think theyare playing “Survivor”. There are two teams – the Republicans and the Democrats– and each team still picks people to be in alliance with so that they are strongenough to get their way. They work to suppress the other party and even theweaker members of their own party. They fight for what they want - they want towin the prize.  

I wish they’d wakeup and realize they are not on a reality TV show. They are not on a desertedisland foraging for food and competing in contrived contests of skill.

The only fightthey are in is the one to see that the United States will survive. That ourpeople will survive poverty, illness, homelessness, racism, violence, fear, andall the other maladies so many face every day.    

When are ourelected officers going to realize that? They are not on the island to savethemselves; they were elected to save us! And the only way to do that is foreveryone to work together and forget about the million dollar prize.  

Far Western Wisconsin

            Wow, where has the month of May gone? It’s been two weeksalready since my friend Phyllis, my pup Hannah, and I returned home from ourmini-vaca to an Airbnb in Emerald, Wisconsin. And until I did a search forplaces to share in that area, I didn’t even know there was a town of Emerald inWisconsin.

            Anyway, the three of us had a really good time, butinstead of going blah, blah, blah about it, I’ll just share some of thepictures. 

Wayside along the Red Cedar River, between Cornell and Connorsville, on the way there.   This was Hannah's first overnight adventure and she was a champ. Now everytime I go somewhere in the car, she runs to it and wants to go for a ride. Only a month ago, we had to drag her into the car and she'd practically have an anxiety attack.

Inside the Airbnb. Very nice and spacious. (and where's Hannah?)
The firepit just outside. Our first night there, the host built us a bonfire and we made s'mores. Second night, we were too tired. 
After we got there and unpacked, we took a walk in the woods behind the house. This falcon flew overhead and into this tree. Also, on my drive there, I saw a fox, a turkey, and a black bear, none of which had their picture taken as I was driving the car and Hannah hasn't learned photography yet. 
The St Croix River at Interstate Park. We spent much of the first morning there, hiking the trails. 
Hannah blending into the trail along the river. 
Doesn't that downed tree look like a dragon? 
One of the springs on Silverbrook Trail. We ran into a nice young ranger who pointed out the other spring and the waterfall. 
Silverbrook waterfalls. Hard to tell because it was so narrow and wooded around it. 
The other Silverbrook spring. You could see the water bubbling up through the sand on the bottom. We all had a drink of the cold, refreshing water, and Phyllis even filled up her water bottle. 
At Osceola. Cascade waterfalls is a hike down a whole bunch of stairs and none of us thought we were up to it at that point. Maybe next time!

Rest

 

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of youwho are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28,New Living Translation)

Whatis your burden today? What are you carrying that is too much for you? Is anxietytearing at your mind and soul? Is it physical pain that you can no longer handle?Are you just plain exhausted from all that life is handing you? Are you afraid you are about to fall? 

Turnit over to Jesus, and He will grant you rest. He will ease your burden and takeaway the pain in your heart, mind, and body. He will wrap His loving peacearound you.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Come to me. Getaway with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a realrest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforcedrhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keepcompany with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11:28-30,The Message)

Mylife has been in a tail spin the last few weeks. I keep repeating Matthew 11:28over and over in my head. It gets me through the days, but at night, betweenmidnight and two a.m., it’s hard to push out the worrisome thoughts. But whetherI sleep through the night or not, Jesus will always carry me.

Where Was I Wednesday?

Ormore like, where have I been for nearly two weeks? And where am I going to befor the next week?

It’sa long and stupid story, so just let me say our internet has been out sinceApril 24 and won’t be back on until after May 14. Hubby and I are not happy;actually, we are irate. But such is life. I borrow the internet from othersources when I can; the rest of the time, I have been writing my next book.Yea, Me!

So,why have I posted a blog for you to read today?

BecauseHannah and I went out of town for a few days with a friend of mine. Another,yea, Me!

Imight blog more about it, with more pictures, when I get internet at home, butfor now, here is where I am and whose internet I’m using today.

Hannah and me at Interstate State Park in St Croix Falls.

The Mississippi River at the state park.

The Airbnb we stayed at in Emerald.
Pansies! For the friend I’m here with. 

When Laughter Works Better Than Tears

          Sometimes, you just gotta laugh. Things aren't going well, so you getfrustrated or even angry. But whatever is going on, you just have to make thebest of it and laugh when you can.

         I maybe shouldn't be sharing this for the world to read, but my brother'sforgetfulness has turned into full-blown dementia. Hubby and I are doing ourbest, but I'm not gonna cry about it, so I'm gonna have to laugh instead.

         A couple of months ago, my brother called one morning to say his record playerwasn't working, and he couldn't figure out why because it was working fine theday before. He asked if we could run out and buy him a new one, even though wehad just bought it for him a few months before.

         I told him we'd come over to see what was wrong and if we could fix it. We gotthere, and it's not plugged in.

          We asked, "Where's the cord toplug it in?"

          Tom: "It's never been plugged in.It must be on a battery."

          Us: "No, there was a cord for itwhen we bought it for you three months ago. We plugged it in when we set it upfor you. So, where is the cord?"

          Tom: "There never was one."

         And there was none. We looked around his house as much as we felt safe (notgoing in his drawers for any reason), but nowhere in his house could we findit. No clue what he could have done with it. He had two razors with similarplugs, and we tried both of them, but neither fit.

          After ten more minutes ofconversations that continued to go in circles ("but it has never beenplugged in"), we told him we would take it home and see what we could do.We were sure that somewhere in our bags full of misfit electronics, we had aplug that would fit.

         So, we brought the record player home and dug through our stuff. I found threelikely candidates.

          The first one fit but didn't bring theturn table to life.

          The second one fit, and as soon as weplugged it in, the device made a little sighing noise. Yeah! Success.

          Before I could get the record on theturn table and check for music, I smelled smoke. Sure enough, smoke was rollingout of a tiny hole in the back of the device.

          I pulled the plug from the wall, andHubby pulled the cord from the record player. 

          Hubby: "I guess we'll have to buyhim a whole new record player."

          Me: "I could try the thirdcord."

          Hubby: "NOOOO!"

(The picture above is the box the new record player came in. I thought we should save it for awhile in case we had to take it back to the store when my brother couldn't figure out how to work it. I think it's time for the box to go, before I am listed off my rocker as well. Also, I keep reading "Big Bass" like the fish and rhymes with another name for donkey, instead of bass as in bass, tenor, soprano.)

Pure Joy

 

NowMary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into thetomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at thehead and the other at the foot.

They asked her, “Woman, why are youcrying?”

          “They have taken my Lord away,” shesaid, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned aroundand saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?Who is it you are looking for?”

          Thinking he was the gardener, shesaid, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and Iwill get him.”

          Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

          She turned toward him and cried out inAramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

          Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, forI have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them,‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

          Mary Magdalene went to the discipleswith the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said thesethings to her. (John 20:11-18, New International Version)

Joy,pure joy. How else could anyone describe how Mary felt in that moment. If youare a believer, you can feel that joy right now. And some day hold onto Jesuswhen you meet Him in heaven. 

(The picture here is from my trip to Kenya in2013, when my daughter and I visited the IDP camp at Maai Mahu. I love thesmile on this precious one’s face. She doesn’t have much, just enough food to surviveeach day, dirty clothes, a canvas shelter to live in with her family, but she wasfilled with pure joy when she met us.)