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Posts Tagged ‘Christian Faith’

Winter Breakup

The tyranny of winter is about to break up, as the above watercolor rendering depicts.  We have had a good amount of snow, accompanied by below zero temperature readings plus way below zero wind chills.  Then a sudden and violent thaw along with bone-biting days of sleety rain and icy windshields on cars—and potentially treacherous roads rendered slick with icy rainfall.

But by mid February, a difference—for which we are watching and waiting.  Not a difference in difficult temperatures or driving conditions (which can last into April in Wisconsin) but the radical rebellion of Spring overcoming the darkness of Winter.

The difference is visible in sun faithfully and predictably climbing back into the northern hemisphere.   In just three weeks, that sun will rise through our patio door and flood our living room, kitchen, and dining area—after being out of our living room view since October.  Always I think of a favorite hymn:

“Summer and winter and springtime and harvest, sun moon and stars in their courses above, join with all nature in manifold witness to Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.”  from the hymn GREAT IS THY FAITHFULNESS by T.O Chisolm and William M. Runyan

Bringing the excitement of watching and waiting right up to the area of contemporary music, that poet of the piano George Winston has an album titled WINTER INTO SPRING.  This music brings the drama of watching and waiting into the marrow of the listener’s soul.  As an impassioned music lover, I hear and sense the reality of Winston’s music in the core of my being.

Great is Thy faithfulness and Winter into Spring!  I’m reminded of a prophecy in Malachi, at the end of the Old Testament:  “But to you who fear My name THE SUN of RIGHTEOUSNESS shall arise with healing in His wings . . . .” Malachi 2:4a

This passage especially impacts me because The Lord Jesus, God’s Son, Who will literally return to reign in Jerusalem as KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS, is pictured as “The SUN”, thereby invoking the physical “sun” as a metaphor for our Lord Jesus Christ.

How beautiful, the poetry woven into the truths of Scripture.  We are watching and waiting for the sun to return to our hemisphere to banish the hardships of Winter.  And we watch and wait for the return of THE SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, to establish a promised government of peace and justice, overcoming the centuries-long “Winter” characterized by the sins of fallen man.

Watching and waiting, for Winter into Spring—-for Death into RESURRECTION.  Indeed, GREAT IS THY FAITHFULNESS!

Margaret L. Been — February 8, 2019

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up north 4

Since my last entry I had thought the next one would be more about the winter quiet.  But in recent days, something so beautiful has happened that I simply have to write about it.  A thirteen year old girl who had been missing from her home town in Northern Wisconsin for 88 days, has been found—and she is home.  A girl named Jayme.

Since Jayme’s disappearance, she has been the subject of an intense nation wide search.  All that time she was sixty miles north of her home town.  For my blog readers all over the globe, I will explain the tragic events which culminated in Jayme’s rescue.  In October, Jayme’s home was entered in the late evening.  Later, upon investigation, Jayme’s parents were found murdered and Jayme was gone.  Obviously every news item of a missing person, especially a young person, causes sorrow.  But I have felt exceptionally connected to Jayme’s case for several reasons:

1)  Joe and I have a beautiful great-granddaughter almost exactly Jayme’s age.  Our great granddaughter will turn fourteen in February, and she bears an amazing resemblance to photos I have seen of the missing Jayme.

2)  I am a Wisconsin small town “girl” at heart.  I grew up in a town of population 2,203 about 77 miles north of Milwaukee.  As newlyweds Joe and I lived in a larger small town, further north, with population of about 10,000.  And recently we lived for eight wonderful years near a town with a population of 1,500—way up north, 285 miles north of our present home.

3)  I am no stranger to the Wisconsin Northwoods.  Not only have I lived there full time in recent years, but I have vacationed there—either via tent camping or rented cabins—many times during my life.  The quiet, natural beauty of the North defies description.  Thousands of acres are preserved in state and federal forests.  The landscape is literally littered with lakes—both pristine water, sand bottom lakes or a myriad of river-flowage lakes—like the one where our home was situated.  The flowage lakes are muddy bottomed and weedy.  Unlike the sand bottom lakes, lakes such as ours are impossible for jet skiers and speed boat lovers to navigate—and suitable only for wildlife, of which there is a wealth in our Northwoods.  This is why we loved our place up north so much.  We had every imaginable year round and migratory kinds of birds in our woods and waterfowl in the swamp around our home, plus muskrats, beavers, and otters just up the river.  The Wisconsin Northwoods is home to more Virginia whitetail deer than humans.  And we have a plethora of bears, a good number of wolves, and yes—some cougars who have wandered in from “out west”.

There is a profound peace in the North, yet within that peace can reside evil as vile and treacherous as the potential evil in any city neighborhood, anywhere in the USA.  Such is the evil of the man that killed Jayme’s parents and kept her captive in a remote Northwoods area cabin for nearly three months.

Last week, Jayme bravely left the cabin while her captor was out, and she approached a woman who was walking her dog.  The woman immediately brought Jayme to a nearby home, and called 911—the nation wide emergency number.  Jayme was offered beverage and food, and a blanket, but Jayme accepted only the blanket.  She had been outdoors without a coat, and she was shivering cold.

Meanwhile, her kidnapper was found due to Jayme’s description of his vehicle, and he is in court with charges of two homicides and a kidnapping.  Jayme is back in her home town with a very devoted aunt, other relatives, and many friends who love her and are rejoicing over her return.  And she is back home with her dog.

Details of Jayme’s escape are delineated in a feature article in a recent (available online) edition of The Milwaukee Journal/Sentinel.  If you can read this feature and finish with a dry eye, well . . . I just don’t “get it”!  As I read, I experienced a growing understanding that Jayme’s rescue is very clearly a “God” event—and here is why:

It did not “just happen” that we are having an unusually warm winter in Wisconsin.  The temperatures up north have ranged in the area of 20 degrees above zero, in an area where from 15 to 25 below zero is frequent.  Jayme would have been greatly endangered if there had there been a customary reading of below zero.

It did not just “just happen” that the woman who found Jayme does not live in that remote area full time.  She and her husband live many miles south of there and they were having a winter vacation at their northern cabin.

It didn’t “just happen” that the woman who found Jayme is a retired social worker specifically in child welfare.  And, to risk my sounding overly basic, it didn’t “just happen” that the woman’s dog needed to go poddy at the exact time when Jayme was wandering in the woods near the cabin.

Especially wonderful, is the fact that it didn’t “just happen” that the town of Barron WI (population 3,3018) was united in ongoing prayer—and that the prayer element was published again and again on cable news stations as well as in newspapers that carried the ongoing story of the search for Jayme.

A GOOGLE search reveals that there are nine churches in Barron.  Nine churches united in heartbreak and concern for a missing girl who was loved by many in the community.  Nine churches united in prayer—and now elated over God’s answer.

Prayer must continue, as this young person has been traumatized beyond imagining, by the violent death of her parents and 88 days of captivity with horrendous implications.  Jayme will need every possible prayer for her healing, and for her ongoing dealing with all that has happened—as well as for her future.

But Jayme has family and friends, and an entire town that loves her.  And God, with His matchless love, is watching over her.  Metaphorically speaking, God has delivered Jayme out of the pit of hell.

Margaret L. Been — January 14, 2019

Note:  As I muse over the event of Jayme’s rescue and the prayers which have brought her home, a thought has entered my mind.  There are countless thousands of “Barrons” across our nation—small communities where most every person is “known” or “known about”, towns where individuals unite in prayer when tragedy strikes people in their midst.  Even in America’s tragic moral and ethical decline, many in our nation still seek God’s face and continue in prayer.  We know that prayer is where it’s at!  Prayer/prayer/prayer!  Our Lord Who returned Jayme to her home town, can bring our nation back to faith and obedience to Him!

“If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from Heaven, and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”  2nd Chronicles 7:14

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October Clouds 1

“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  Hebrews 13:2 KJV

Angels are prominent in the lives of Old and New Testament people, speaking God’s messages, shutting the mouths of lions, predicting the birth of Jesus and John the Baptist, joyously announcing our Messiah’s birth, ministering to our Lord after His trial in the wilderness, present at the empty tomb after the Resurrection of Jesus, attending His ascension into Heaven, springing Peter out of prison, and in countless other references where angels speak to or assist in God’s dealings with His people—plus the glorious accounts of angels accompanying our Lord at His return and singing praises around His throne throughout eternity.

Whether angels have appeared in Scriptures as men bearing God’s messages, or as Heavenly beings radiantly decked out as in the descriptions of angels at Jesus’s birth and His ascension into Heaven, they are very clearly sent from Heaven to carry a message or perform a task.

But equally exciting, is the Scriptural verification that angels are active in the daily lives of ordinary Church Age believers—not appearing in radiant white and shining glory, not speaking in overt messages from the Lord, but rather appearing as just plain people intervening in our lives in significant ways.

In such instances, it will seem that a human has intervened; yet in retrospect we have a growing sense that something supernatural occurred.  There are occasions in a believer’s life that defy human logic, when we have met an angel: “unwittingly as in the New King James Version; “without knowing it as in the New International Version; or, as in my very favorite traditional King James Version of Hebrews 13:2, “some have entertained angels unawares”.

Two such scenarios are outstanding in my past, and I recall them as if they happened last week.

Scenario #1—!990:  Our daughter, Martina, and I had flown to the outskirts of Washington D. C., rented a car, and headed out to New Market, Virginia, where we had a motel reservation.  I’d booked a weaving class out of New Market, at a farm on the Shenandoah River, and 14 year old Martina accompanied me just for the fun of a trip.

The weaving class ran from Monday through Friday, with the Wednesday off—giving Martina and me a chance to explore part of the George Washington National Forest into the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia.  The owners of the farm where the class was held loaned me a road map of the territory.  I had a bit of panic when I first saw the map, the roads of which resembled a pile of cooked spaghetti.  Then I thought, never mind.  There will be signs.

But once we left the main highway and went up into the forest, there were no signs—at least I didn’t see any—until after a couple of hours of winding through gorgeous scenery on the spaghetti roads, when we saw a small, rugged wooden sign saying “Reddish Knob” and pointing somewhere down a road.  Several roads converged hither and thither, and I had no idea of how we had arrived at the spot where we were.  My spaghetti map was no help.  We were alone, lost in a wilderness, and I had no idea how to get us back to civilization.

So I pulled off the road, and Martina and I prayed.  Suddenly, across the road and up a few yards from us a sedan appeared—and out of the car stepped a man in a business suit and a hat. The man walked over to our car and, through my rolled down car window asked if he could help us.  Now I am normally a very cautious individual, but in this case I had no fear.  I showed the man the map and asked him if he could tell us how to get back down to the highway.  I don’t recall whether or not the man used a pen or pencil, but he very clearly explained the way back.  I thanked him and that was that.  The man drove off in his sedan, and Martina and I followed his directions back to familiar territory.

A kind person, suddenly appearing to meet our need.  But later I began musing about that gentleman, as I have ever since.  What in the world was he doing, dressed in a business suit in a place where there were no subdivisions of homes, no commercial malls or office parks?  We were on government land, so it was unlikely that he was there to buy a lot or oversee some business venture.  The man was dressed for a day’s office type work, in an area where one might expect to see back-packers dressed for wilderness hiking.  Even a casual sightseer would not normally be dressed in business attire.

An angel unawares, unknowing, unwittingly?  I absolutely believe he was an angel, as the man and his appearance defied any logical explanation.

Scenario #2—1993:  My husband, Joe, and I had just flown from Boston, USA to Glasgow, Scotland where we rented a car to embark on a 2200 mile excursion on back roads in rural Scotland, England, and Wales—staying at Bed and Breakfast Sheep Farms for most of the 17 nights.  As we left the airport, headed for the boonies of Argyll (home of my Campbell ancestors) with Joe driving on the “wrong” side of the road in a car with the steering wheel on the “wrong” side of the dashboard (and never mind our jet lag!), we were confronted with something we had not yet experienced in our slow moving part of Wisconsin:  a roundabout—buzzing with traffic going who knows where, seemingly in all directions of intersecting highways.

Again, we had a map—this time one I had ordered stateside from the British Travel Authority, complete with descriptions and photos of Sheep Farm B & Bs all over the United Kingdom.  As Joe was keeping us alive in traffic, I was trying to make sense of the map and our destination.  Just as frustration began to peak, we saw an old man walking by the side of the highway, with a cane and a large Shepherd/Labrador type dog.

Somehow Joe managed to pull off the highway, and I asked the man if he could tell us how to aim for the area in Argyll where we were headed.  “I’ll show you,” the man said.

He climbed into the backseat of our small car with his large, friendly dog, and off we went under the man’s direction.  After a few minutes, he pointed us on our way.  As the man and dog got out of the car, Joe and I were both concerned about him, and we said, “What about YOU To which the old man smiled and replied, “Oh, I’ll be all right.” 

Again, “Thank you”, and that was that.  We immediately realized that Scotland was (and indeed is!) a very friendly part of the world.  But again I have mulled over that incident for years.  What was an apparently frail old fellow doing, walking his dog along a busy highway system with no neighborhood in sight?  Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to walk his dog around the area where he lived?  And where did he live, amidst that maze of traffic?  How could he have been so casual about getting back to the place where we had found him?

Maybe the kind, elderly man was more physically fit than he seemed to be.  Maybe he simply loved to hike with his canine buddy for miles of highway, rather than along the picturesque lanes of rural Scotland.  Maybe, but I don’t think so.  I believe our roadside friend was an angel unawares.

This is not to say that any time we have roadside help, it is via an angel from Heaven.  There are plenty of kind and helpful humans, as our road trips have proved.  I know it was a real down-to-earth county sheriff who helped us change a tire on a Kansas highway, in a tremendous wind that reminded me of THE WIZARD OF OZ—also set in Kansas.

And I’m not foolish enough to believe that help will always be on hand whether on the road or anywhere else.  On our fallen planet, we may experience troubles beyond our wildest imagination!

But I do understand that our days and lives have been known by God from eternity past.  He enables His people to cope with whatever circumstances prevail, as we focus on Him, always through His infinite grace and occasionally through the ministry of Heaven’s Angels—who may appear to be helpful humans, but actually are angels unawares,.

Margaret L. Been — December 28th, 2918

Note:  I have just added Ghana, Turkey, Russia, and Switzerland to the international list of readers on my 12/22/18 blog entry.  Welcome friends!!!

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Here's what it's all about sans GB

This precious photo takes me back to 1962, when our daughters, Laura and Debbie, plus our son, Eric, reenacted an historical event which needs no explanation—as a part of our Christmas Eve celebration at home.

We had another daughter, Judy, somewhere around—and a real live baby, Karl, who for some reason was not available at the moment, so a doll took the place of Baby Jesus.  Obviously we overlooked the fact that we had no boy doll to fill in the gap. 🙂

I think some of our children understood the Christmas message better than I did in 1962.  Children can be so receptive to the simplicity of it all!

I was reminded of this last evening, at our church’s annual special Christmas worship:  Scripture readings from the Genesis 3:15 first mention of our Messiah, prophecies concerning the Lord Jesus from Micah and Isaiah, the beautiful account of Jesus’s birth in the Gospel of Luke, and the joyous climax in the book of Revelation when God’s glorified people will be worshipping the Lamb Who was slain—KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.  All of the readings were interspersed with the singing of beloved Christmas Carols.  As a finale, we lit our individual candles and sang “Silent Night”.

It brought tears to my eyes, to think that people all over the world would be replicating this service of worship and adoration:  people of countless denominations, in many languages and in every possible setting—be it a cathedral, church, public venue, or at home either in safety and comfort or at risk of arrest, incarceration, and/or torture and possibly death.  Scriptures, carols, and candlelight.

When singing the carols, I thought of all of you who may be reading this blog—brothers and sisters in Christ in the USA, Canada, Mexico, Brazil, UK, Ireland, Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, France, Germany, Netherlands, Spain, Italy, Portugal. Australia, New Zealand, India, Myanmar, Hong Kong, Nigeria, Gabon, South Africa, Afghanistan, and other places around the world.  All lighting candles and singing praises to the Lord Jesus Who is the Light of the World!

Today we are united in love, through His Holy Spirit.  Someday we will be united in person, praising our LORD OF LORDS, KING OF KINGS—thanks to His message of Salvation, Redemption, and Eternal Life:  a message so beautifully simple that even a receptive child can understand and believe it.

To all of you readers, wherever you are, I pray you will have a blessed Christmas!

Margaret L. Been — December 22, 2018  

Note:  I am adding Ghana, Russia, Turkey, and Switzerland to the above international list.  Welcome friends!!! 

 

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“Since then you have been raised with Christ, set your heart on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, Who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.”  Colossians 3:1-4  NIV

Even as we deliberately choose to set our minds on things above—and perhaps because we have chosen a Christ focused mindset—-we are apt to be needled and poked by petty annoyances in our circumstances:  not only the big dilemmas, but those rinky-dinky irritations too silly to mention.  These are the fiery darts of our enemy, and I am wondering if any Christian is immune to experiencing them!  Dear reader, if you have never been needled and poked, please share. 

This morning, some silly technical frustration “stuck in my craw”, and rather than ignoring, or at least responding with serenity and grace, I reacted in anger.  This after a wonderful start to the day, with prayer and communion with our Lord.

In the midst of my reaction, I said, “Oh, Lord, I am so sorry!”  Immediately, the Holy Spirit brought to my mind my very favorite Psalm and the particular passage I especially love:  Psalm 139:9-10–-“If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me.”  NKJV

Being reminded of this passage in the circumstance of my reaction and remorse was an epiphany for me.  For decades I have claimed the promise of Psalms 139:9-10 for two occasions:  1) flights (as in planes); and surgeries requiring general anesthetic—perhaps because in both of those scenarios I have no control whatsoever.  I simply have to trust God to work through the humans involved in flying the plane or “fixing” my body.  (As if I really ever DO “have control”. )

Obviously, I know that God is with us and active in all of our issues, great and small—a fact He has revealed to me again and again over the years.  But today God showed me in a more visceral way that He is ever present, to nudge me out of temptations and sinful reactions—by applying a beloved Scripture, to the “uttermost parts of the sea” implied in my anger.  Even there God’s hands are holding me and leading me out of the morass of fallen self, back into His light. 

I cannot trust myself to respond correctly, even in the rinky-dinky issues of life.  I can only trust the Lord Jesus Christ, Who not only will someday make all things new, but at this very moment is lifting me to Himself in praise and gratitude.  The Lord Jesus is all sufficient and all powerful for today—for the huge calamities we may encounter, and also for those silly needling and poking scenarios.  He is Lord over all the fiery darts. 

Meanwhile, we are in the midst of beautiful family and friend celebrations of our Lord’s first appearance on earth—to show us how to live and then to die for our sins, and rise to give Eternal Life to all who believe in Him.  Our Lord’s first coming anticipates the wonder and joy of His second coming.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them.  They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’  He Who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’  Then He said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ ”  Revelation 21:3-5  NKJV

Come, Lord Jesus!

Margaret L. Been — December 19th, 2018 

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“My soul melts from heaviness. Strengthen me according to Your word.” Psalm 119:28 NKJV                                                                                                                                              

Characteristically, my blog essays deal with victory over trials—the victory of the indwelling Jesus Christ via His Holy Spirit.  At all times God’s spiritual attributes reside in my soul, as well in the souls of all who belong to Him.  When and if we focus on the Lord through His Word, His love, peace, and joy will flow from us.

Yet, in my zeal to reflect and express the life of the Lord Jesus Christ, it has occurred to me that I sometimes overlook or downplay the blatant fact of our universally shared humanity.

Yes, we have victory.  Yes, God is all powerful, and He provides all we need for wherever He has placed us to serve and honor Him.  But also, “yes” we are human—broken vessels, vulnerable to pain and sorrow, prone to seasons of weeping.

We are not unfeeling robots, mechanically spewing out truths through a plastic, pasted-on smile.  We are people.  Sometimes we CRY!  If we never cried, we would never be qualified to come alongside another grieving individual who needs a quiet, understanding friend.

Jesus wept for His beloved friend, Lazarus.  Jeremiah wept for his sinful, fallen nation.  And numerous Psalmists wept over their own pain and sorrow.  Sometimes WE weep, yes even for OURSELVES.

Recently I had a lapse of weeping for myself.  Right in the midst of a series of victory laps where God’s palpable presence and joy had prevailed, I succumbed to tears for my self—as currently I literally have only one leg to stand on.  As if my mini-infirmity matters at all in the vast scheme of things.

As I wept tears of frustration, knowing all the time that God is in control and He will never leave me comfortless, it dawned on me that I was weeping not just for my invalid self but also for the lost, pain ridden world.  In this sudden flood of tears, God reinforced the fact that I am not a robot, nor am I beyond or above the pathos of the human race!

Yes, we have victory in the Lord Jesus Christ.  Yes, He will never forsake us.  And yes, we are humans saved by Grace.  As sinners saved by Grace we are never to lose our capacity to love and come alongside the shared sorrow of humanity.  When we are broken, when our strength is revealed as utter and absolute weakness, God shines through in all His glory.

“For it is God Who commanded light to shine out of darkness, Who has shone in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.  But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency may be of God and not of ourselves.  We are hard pressed on either side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down but not destroyed—always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our body.  2 Corinthians 4:6-10 NKJV

Margaret L. Been —  December 2nd, 2018

(First published on November 19th in my blog:  GOD’S WORD IS TRUE)

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It is known by all the people in my life, that I am passionate about dogs.  Have had them most of my life—with the exception of college and most of our new baby years.  Every one knows that our last dog, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Dylan, died of old age a year ago—and that health issues have prohibited us from finding another dog to fill our canine-shaped void.

Actually, I love animals of all kinds—and stuffed animals as well.  Our current in-house Teddy bear population hovers around 14, along with various other species: a toy lamb, a hedgehog, etc.

Today our daughter, Debbie, came in with her almost 14 year old granddaughter, Olivia (obviously our great-granddaughter).  Exuberantly they brought a gift—a (stuffed toy) Dachshund, LUCKEY, the name of our first long-lived family dog when our children were young.  I’m using the spelling with the “E” simply because that was the name and spelling of my maternal grandparents:  Ambrose and Catherine Luckey*.

Luckey gazes at me like our dogs always did, particularly Dylan because he was our only dog for years.  And now Luckey has captured my heart BIG TIME.  I just hope all the resident Teddies will be able to accept him, and not come unglued!  Or unstuffed! 

My joy in this new, easy-maintenance “pet” matches the joy I saw on the faces of the givers—Debbie and Olivia!  The joy of giving; the joy of receiving!  A gift of love—for no other reason than the desire to give, to warm the heart of the receiver. 

Does that read like the season at hand and the Gift of Unconditional LOVE we are about to celebrate?  Actually the GIVING AND RECEIVING we celebrate every day of our lives, when The Lord Jesus Christ indwells us!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Margaret L. Been — December 1st, 2018

*My grandfather, Ambrose Luckey, was of Irish descent, specifically from Londonderry.  I never really met Grandpa Luckey because he died when I was 1 year old.  But I sense a kinship because he was remembered as loving his farm in Central Wisconsin—just as I loved our 3 acre hobby (sheep) farm for 21 years, in Southern Wisconsin.  Isn’t the love of the land kind of an Irish thing?

As a writer I have always tried to avoid traces of overt sentimentality.  But now that I am in my dotage, I know I’m becoming more “Irish” in that respect.  Predictable with 24 per cent Irish DNA—and proud of it! 

 

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