four
courageous
women
[Deb 06/30/2016] Our recent visit to mom and dad in Ohio gave us an opportunity to celebrate four generations of women on my side of the family. Great-Grandma Dot (“GG-Dot” as she likes to be called), Grandma or “Ami” (that’s me!), Mom Mallory, and happy granddaughter Ellie. We came up from our project in Kentucky and Mallory brought her family to Ohio from Colorado. We all met at my mom and dad's house. I am not sure this congregation of courageous women will ever get the chance to meet again.
We all were excited to come together. This was Ellie’s chance to meet GG-Dot. Ellie is the only great grandchild to my mom, grandchild to me, and only child to Mallory as of this date. It is an honor to be in this line-up. When Ellie arrived in Ohio, I know GG-Dot was delighted to hug little Ellie. I was overcome with emotion when I held Ellie for the first time in 6+ months. Mallory must have been very proud to share her little miracle with us.
I can say that we are all courageous women for many reasons, but here are a few. I can share that GG-Dot overcame the growing up with an alcoholic father and the struggles associated with that atmosphere.
Mallory and I have triumphed over some personal challenges. When Ellie is older I hope to tell her the amazing stories of victory behind this statement.
And, Ellie is a miracle baby.
It is only because of God’s Goodness that are we all thankful brave souls. Praise be to God for the chance to share together in this precious moment.
I can say that we are all courageous women for many reasons, but here are a few. I can share that GG-Dot overcame the growing up with an alcoholic father and the struggles associated with that atmosphere.
Mallory and I have triumphed over some personal challenges. When Ellie is older I hope to tell her the amazing stories of victory behind this statement.
And, Ellie is a miracle baby.
It is only because of God’s Goodness that are we all thankful brave souls. Praise be to God for the chance to share together in this precious moment.
another front yard
| Doug and Debby have an awesome back yard! [Ken 06/24/2016] While we are in Colorado visiting our family and Ken's mom, we are going to leave Faith parked in Ken's brother's back yard in Bellbrook, Ohio. He has so much space, we cannot see his house from the motorhome (and he cannot see our motorhome from the house). We even have a private, gated entrance! THANKS, DOUG and DEBBY! |  |
83 years!
[Deb 06/23/2016] Happy Birthday Mom! Dinner with Mom and Dad to celebrate mom's day at The Clubhouse, Monroe, Ohio. Good Food – Good Times! It was a nice end to our visit. Many Blessings to you, Mom!
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[Ken and Deb 06/19/2016] While visiting Deb's mom and dad in Monroe, Ohio, Mallory, Devin, and our new granddaughter, Ellie, drove in from Colorado for a coincident visit. We had not seen them (other than on FaceTime) since we left Colorado on December 5th. It was so good to share hugs and to be with them all again. Especially Ellie. Now six-and-a-half months old, she is the most joyous baby we have ever seen. And she is really, really cute, too. Happy Fathers' Day to Ken!!!
visiting mom and dad!
| [Deb 06/18/2016] We are visiting my mom and dad in Monroe, Ohio, this week. It's been almost three years since we've seen them. They will be celebrating their 63rd wedding anniversary next month. In spite of some of the health challenges they face, their spirits are buoyant. They stay busy keeping the Treasure Barn, a resale shop on campus, in top shape. It is so nice to experience Mom's and Dad's hugs again! |  |
Mom's beautiful gardens are a bit overgrown so we have been helping thin out plants and weed. Dad indulged us with a recollection of past events about life as a young teenager during wartime, 1944 Amsterdam. We also toured the retirement community where they live and saw the sizable expansion project dad is coordinating at the Treasure Barn. Life is good!
three "daddilees"
HAPPY FATHERS' DAY!
| [Ken 06/19/2016] My dad would have been 90 years old this week. He always had something to say. His words of wisdom were not limited. Some of his wise words were pithy, some trite. I reflect on the ana of wise words as “daddilees.” Some daddilees went in one ear and out the other, I confess. For example, “Two wrongs don’t make a right,” he would often say – but I never understood how the illogic of these words could combine to diffuse any situation at hand. Whether I acknowledged it at the time, or not, some daddilees were truly wise words -- great wisdom – advice that reflected a principled value system. From-time-to-time he offered three that made more sense than others – and I took to heart. The first two daddilees were very simple; they usually came as book-ends in a conversation. The third was cloaked in encouragement and usually stood on its own. I recall the last time I heard this daddilee – I was burdened with work and a new baby while also searching for time to finish my Master’s Degree when, this time, we talked on the phone. It turns out that these were very wise words for me to heed.  Maybe your dad impressed on you advice as valuable as this. I can still hear these daddilees in his voice. He would start by saying, “Kenny…
I don’t know if my dad was a Believer. Church was not part of his life as an adult. As a youth, he was a Sunday-morning, Sunday-evening, Wednesday-evening Methodist. He said that his family was always at church. Every-once-in-a-while he would walk around the house singing a verse or two from one of those great old hymns. And he was proud to have read the entire Bible in a time when that was unheard of. But one Sunday morning in his childhood his nine-year-old sister was struck by a car coming out of church; I think church began to mean something different to him soon after. Mary Alice was holding hands with her two brothers, George and Ken, when she exited the steps of Stealey Heights Methodist Church – she was right between my dad and my uncle when her life was so suddenly ended. And it was only a few months later that my dad lost his mother to tuberculosis. And then his father, struggling with life, died a few years after that. One story reports that my paternal grandfather died of a broken heart, with a bottle in his hand. In the course of all of this loss my dad had gone from being in a vibrant, church-going family to being an orphan. He did not talk much about these life-changing times. The daddilee wisdom that I heard through Cub Scouts and Junior High School and seemingly at every other life hurdle, provide evidence, however, of the roots of his value system. |
In Philippians 2:3-4, Paul exhorts the church at Philippi to, “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” And in 1 Chronicles 28:20, David tells Solomon to, “…Be strong and of good courage, and do it; do not fear nor be dismayed, for the LORD God; my God; will be with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you…” In other words, do not negotiate it, do not deliberate it, do not sit down and invent reasons to over-think, over-complicate, and/or delay the plans, but be strong and of good courage and just go do it. Go and be an example that by your willingness and hard work will honor God. I want to believe that my dad knew Jesus Christ, even if he would not talk about it. It may have been birthed a long time ago when he was a young child. Or throughout his youth as he was raised by a Christian family. I certainly pray that he knew our Lord before he had his strokes. The great wisdom that dad impressed on me is evidence of past Biblical teaching. These daddilees reflected my dad’s value system. Now, these daddilees are arrows in my leadership quiver. I shared them with my own children. I used them in my career. I used them as an adult leader in the Boy Scout program. I taught them in leadership forums. I have applied them in my ministry with SOWERs. In fact, I have presented daddilees in my own words of wisdom in conversations with protégés as recently as last week. They are truly wise words -- great wisdom – solid biblical advice that should be heeded. Thanks for the daddilees, Dad. I know where you learned these. I want you to know that I continue to heed this great wisdom and share it on a daily basis. |
another front yard
 | [Ken 06/17/2016] Believe it or not, we have found a shady, peaceful lakeside camp spot right in the middle of busy Cincinnati. We are settled in at site 25 at Winton Woods Campground. This will be our base camp while visiting Deb's parents a few miles north in Monroe, Ohio (and for other places that we are going to explore while in the area -- like CostCo!). |
four hour traffic jam
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| [Ken and Deb 06/16/2016] Just a few miles from Cincinnati, we were stopped by a sizable accident on northbound I75. We ate, napped, watched Hogans Heroes on TV, did a little blogging, and folded laundry. Around midnight we got the "All Clear" from the state highway patrol to proceed. Made it to Monroe, Ohio by 1:00AM. What a night! |  |
area notoriety
[Ken 06/10/2016] While at Oakdale Christian Academy, we are doing our "grocery shopping" in the nearest holler, Jackson, Kentucky. Jackson is the county seat of Breathitt County, infamous for being the origin of many deadly and devastating family feuds including the interminable feud between the Hatfield's and McCoy's. All of the bloodshed earned the county the nickname “Bloody Breathitt”.
About 35 miles to the south is the town of Hazard (Kentucky, not Georgia) made equally famous, perhaps, by Bo and Luke in the TV show, Dukes of Hazard. About 65 miles to the northwest is Winchester, home to the Ale-8 brewing company, a local favorite. About 100 more miles to the west is Churchill Downs, home of the Kentucky Derby. Kentucky is famous for its bourbon, its bluegrass, and its horses -- everybody in Kentucky either owns a horse, or lives next to somebody who owns a horse. The same can be said for bluegrass and bourbon, I hear.
About 35 miles to the south is the town of Hazard (Kentucky, not Georgia) made equally famous, perhaps, by Bo and Luke in the TV show, Dukes of Hazard. About 65 miles to the northwest is Winchester, home to the Ale-8 brewing company, a local favorite. About 100 more miles to the west is Churchill Downs, home of the Kentucky Derby. Kentucky is famous for its bourbon, its bluegrass, and its horses -- everybody in Kentucky either owns a horse, or lives next to somebody who owns a horse. The same can be said for bluegrass and bourbon, I hear.
exploring kentucky
 | WE LIKE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE FREE TIME OUR SOWER PROJECTS ALLOW BY EXPLORING THE LOCAL AREA. MOST OFTEN, WE DO NOT BLOG ABOUT THESE SIDE TRIPS. THIS POST IS A REMARKABLE EXCEPTION! in all my Travels, |
[Ken 06/06/2016] Last weekend, I saw something that I had never before seen. We were set to kayak the Red River Gorge and the weather was not cooperating. Since we had driven all of that way, we decided to find some trails in the gorge and spend the day exploring by foot. We had heard that what waterfalls are to Tennessee, natural bridges and arches are to Kentucky (they are everywhere). We wanted to see for ourselves.
One of the many virtues common to the eastern half of the United States is plentiful rainfall. As a result, foliage along our trails on this day was verdant and overgrown. These Kentucky foot paths each navigated polished limestone cliff edges as they descended into flourishing valleys below. The fern-edged and moist trails meandered nimbly through forests of white oak, sassafras, rhododendron, and mountain laurel. Chambers in the canyon walls above often over-shadowed our trail. Draped from the cliff walls would be vines of Honeysuckle, Yellow Jasmine, and Hydrangea. At the climax of each trail was one of Kentucky’s famous natural bridges and/or an arch. At the Visitors’ Center we learned that in this national forest (the Daniel Boone National Forest) there are over one hundred of these geological wonderments.
This time we were nearing the acme of the Rock Bridge Arch Trail. After a predictably abounding descent, in an idyllic hollow of the wildwood our path turned suddenly to reveal a most unspoiled and picturesque waterfall.
The cascade was wider than it was tall. About half way down, the foaming water danced uniformly from a narrow ledge before finishing in a shallow basin surrounded by an unexpected sandy beach. Delicate droplets of moisture clung to, then dropped from, the leafy foliage hanging overhead. A couple rows of ferns and fern allies embraced precipitously the narrow cracks of rock on one side of the falls. All you could hear in this remoteness were the intermittent song of woodland birds and the ceaseless, rushing cascade. It was nature's calming white noise.
The cascade was wider than it was tall. About half way down, the foaming water danced uniformly from a narrow ledge before finishing in a shallow basin surrounded by an unexpected sandy beach. Delicate droplets of moisture clung to, then dropped from, the leafy foliage hanging overhead. A couple rows of ferns and fern allies embraced precipitously the narrow cracks of rock on one side of the falls. All you could hear in this remoteness were the intermittent song of woodland birds and the ceaseless, rushing cascade. It was nature's calming white noise.
At the bottom of the falls, a rock-face carved by age directed the pool of cool, fresh water unhurriedly past an outcrop draped with greenery. If you looked closely you could see wafts of steam whispering gently against the cliff face above. Past the rock-face, the water now flowed like glass through the dramatic underneath expanse of a 150-foot long rock bridge. I wish a photograph would have been possible so I could have recorded the entirety of this display in one shot.
It was the uncommon artistry of the scene that so struck me. A park sign confirmed its unique allure. In all my travels, as a youth and as an adult, I have never before seen a waterfall drop into a pool that emptied by passing under a natural, rock bridge. Other than at Disneyland or on the lid of a jigsaw puzzle box, perhaps.
It was an absolutely breathtaking setting. Beautiful.
It was an absolutely breathtaking setting. Beautiful.
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OF SEVERAL OTHER TRAILS TO NATURAL BRIDGES AND ARCHES
WE DISCOVERED IN OUR TOUR OF KENTUCKY!
OF SEVERAL OTHER TRAILS TO NATURAL BRIDGES AND ARCHES
WE DISCOVERED IN OUR TOUR OF KENTUCKY!
visiting |  |
[Ken 06/03/2016] I don't know why, but Levi Jackson State Park in Kentucky was, for a number of years, my dad's preferred destination for the family's annual Springtime "shakedown campout." Perhaps because it was an easy drive from our [then] home in Ohio. Perhaps it was because there was a state line to cross and this psychological circumstance always made it feel like we were on a bigger adventure than we actually were. Or perhaps it was because we could get there-and-back on less than $40 of fuel. Regardless of the reason, we made four or five [or more?] family trips there in the late 1960's and very early 1970's. I had faded childhood memories of this pioneer village and nostalgia urged me to want to check out how the last 42+ years had treated the park.
| Deb and I explored the old mill/pond and looked in on the pioneer museum. We hiked to the top of Frazier Knob and back, then celebrated by playing a round of putt-putt on the old course (it had not changed one bit). The campground was near capacity even though it had been noticeably enlarged, and there was a second swimming pool, now. There were new entrance signs at each end of the park, updated picnic pavillions, and a fresh set of ducks and geese at the mill pond. And the old rusty teeter-totter, swings, and slides had been replaced with some of that 21st century colorful but plastic "safe" playground equipment. | Levi Jackson State Park was busy with visitors, picnickers, and campers. This "old, family friend" was doing just fine, I am happy to report! |
they asked me to dance
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| [Deb 06/01/2016] This is a long, long overdue post! The last Wednesday of our [April] project at Camp Baldwin in Alabama, one of the SOWERs gave a devotion about heaven. Really it was a continued devotion on the subject. We had shared three different ones on heaven -- each presented by different people; it is fascinating to imagine what heaven will be like. On this day, our friend, Julie, started by reading the words to the song “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me. We discussed the lyrics and looked up Bible verses on the hope of Heaven. When the song was played for us, I just closed my eyes and started to dance in my imagination. I always enjoy the experience of dancing in my mind. When the song endded, Julie asked if anyone had remembrances of that song. I said yes, I had danced to that song before. Julie’s husband, Bill, said he thought I was going to jump from my chair and dance for them. Then, of course, I had to reveal that I had been a dance major in college. For some reason I had not talked about that with this group. I have felt uncomfortable telling people that I had danced because there are so many differing views on liturgical dance. Maybe some don’t approve of dancing, let alone dancing in the church. But this group of SOWERs all asked at exactly the same time, “Would you dance the song for us?” | Something stirred within me. I hadn’t danced for about five years. But, this song is so glorious and worshipful, I couldn’t help but say 'yes' to preparing and performing the next morning during our devotion time. I happened to have one of my dance dresses in the motorhome -- the Lord knew I would need it, I am sure. After a little practice, I really felt the dance was going to be mostly improvisational. I developed the chorus that was repeated throughout the song, but everything else was going to be left to the moment. The performance was exhilarating. It’s been too long since I have worshiped the Lord this way. It felt so good! God and I did at "High Five" at the end! As I processed the experience, I tried to figure out why performing for strangers was so easy at Camp Baldwin. I think my friends had seen me go through some tough times and I was still hiding in some of the baggage. These SOWER friends accepted me. I guess I really didn’t care what their reaction would be since we were soon to go our separate ways. The dance really wasn’t for them anyway. For me, the others on that morning had witnessed a personal time of worship. I know now that I feel comfortable sharing about my dance history and perhaps there will be more SOWER opportunities to worship through dance in the future. I hope so. |
