As we look forward to Thanksgiving tomorrow, this piece in the series seems especially appropriate. Thanksgiving seems to me to be the purest of holidays. With no wish lists and huge decorating frenzies, we simply gather and thank God for all our blessings. What joyful simplicity!
The other day I got some unexpected time with one of my grandchildren. Ella was out of school for the day, so she came to hang out, while her mom did bookwork for our business. Ella snuggled up to me while I ate lunch on the couch, and we hunted for the Waldo-like character in our Bible Sleuth book. She didn’t need anything from me, wasn’t looking for answers—just wanted to be with me. It was sweet and companionable, and we both soaked it up.
I think that is what the psalmist was expressing in these verses:
1My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. 2 But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content.
Ps. 131:1-3
I never understood this passage until I became a mom.
I loved nursing both my babies. Our times together were intimate and precious. No one else could understand the closeness of those moments. But there were times when I felt more like a milk bottle than a person they loved and longed to spend time with. Their cries in the middle of the night were jangling to my already sleep-deprived mind, and when they pulled and clawed at me in a feeding frenzy, it did not feel tender and loving.
After they began eating solid foods, though, they were somewhat calmer about waiting for meals or snack times. Often, my girls stood close enough to touch me or stroke my leg while I worked in the kitchen. At other times they would crawl in my lap or snuggle next to me to get closer. I finally understood what the psalmist was describing. My children were calm, quiet, content, just to be near me. They still needed me, but our relationship was different.
What a beautiful picture of a companionable reliance on God! We continue to hope in Him, waiting for something that hasn’t happened yet. But more than that, we just want to be near Him. Psalm 131 gives even more wisdom about waiting:
First, not to be proud. Like verse one says, we don’t need to act like a know it all, telling God (and others) what to do, how and when to do it, as if we know what’s best. We can come to God in childlike trust instead of with our to-do list.
Secondly, we don’t need to constantly question God, demanding answers to mysteries He has chosen to keep secret for now. If we trust Him, we won’t need to fret about the unknowns.
And third, we can learn to lean into Him during devotions and moments of praise throughout the day, without asking for a single thing. Instead of a nursing baby who wants to be fed at the first hunger pang, demanding and impatient, we can calm and quiet our souls.
How do we do that? By looking at how faithful He’s been to believers throughout the ages, and especially, to us. By being thankful!
God is our Hope. He is our place of peace. Our refuge. Our safe place when all around is confusion and uncertainty.
I pray you will take a few minutes to sit close to the Lord right now, and express your love for Him as you listen to Bridge Worship’s “Shalom.”
I woke up this morning with a profound sense of gratitude. I heard our heat come on as the wind whipped furiously at our house. I snuggled deeper into the covers and praised God for our home, for food to eat and clothes to wear, for dear friends and family, and most of all for God’s saving, keeping love.
Kelly and I won’t be celebrating with our kids until Saturday. He’s wrapping up a project, so I’m taking the day off to read, walk, watch movies, plan, and eat the sweet little personal chocolate pie my friend dropped off this morning. I do not feel lonely; my heart is full!
However, like you, our family is having its difficulties—some down with a wicked flu; another struggling with debilitating pain that doctors can’t seem to diagnose, much less treat; relationship challenges; addictive behaviors; financial worries; and concerns about work, and the future. It’s tempting to let all those things get us down and lose hope.
That’s why I’m so glad we have this Day for feasting, family, and most of all, remembering to thank God, who is our Source of all blessings. If we know Jesus and His love, that is a great place to start with our praise list. And there’s something powerful we can do to encourage those around us, who may be having a hard time coming up with anything to be thankful for.
The other day I had a frustrating morning and was so worn out by lunch time, I had lost all desire to pursue the other things I’d planned that day.
My daughter and her kids stopped by to throw in a load of wash. Two-year-old Willow ran up to me and asked, “Back okay, Grandma?” her clear blue eyes full of concern. I had been out of action for about a week and they had been praying for me. She touched my back and gently rubbed it with her tiny hands and planted a kiss where it had been hurting to make it better. It did.
Ten-month-old Denver followed in an amazingly fast crawl. When he reached me, he stood up and hugged my legs. When he looked up into my eyes and gave me a dimpled grin, my heart melted all over again.
Although I wasn’t in the mood to entertain, I sat on the floor with my back against the wall while Launa got her load started, and the kids crawled around on me, inspecting my earrings and necklace, one of their favorite things to do. When Launa came out, she sat down next to me on the floor and held me in a long hug. She pulled Denver in to nurse and leaned against the wall as well, and the four of us savored the incredible healing of closeness and touch.
Today, and this holiday weekend, even if you and your family don’t agree politically, religiously, or whether it should have been turkey or ham at your feast. And even if your life or theirs is pretty tough right now—offer the gift of a hug, a meaningful touch, a listening ear. That’s what Jesus would do. It will bring healing, and refresh both their spirit and yours.
Have you ever read a passage or verse in the Bible and started to meditate on it, then have the Lord stop you short and give you a completely different message than what you first thought? That’s what happened to me this morning. I’ve just started the Old Testament book of Micah, and verse one of chapter two spoke to me:
“Woe to those who plan iniquity, to those who plot evil on their beds! At morning’s light they carry it out because it is in their power to do it” (Micah 2:1, NIV).
I began to respond in my journal. I was thinking how easy it is to do the wrong thing when we have the power (or ability) to do it, whether it’s getting back at someone who has wronged us, stealing, lying and so much more. But just as I put pen to paper God spoke to my spirit.
You may not be planning evil, my child—coming up with wicked plots to hurt others. I know you want to please Me. But when you lay in your bed at night and allow worry, discouragement, or anger to fill your mind, that is what you will speak and act on in the light of day. When you say disparaging things about yourself, and beat yourself up instead of speaking promises from My Word, you wallow in self-defeat. And that depletes the confidence I want you to have in Me. Instead, memorize and repeat My truths of comfort, instruction, and encouragement that will energize you for the next day.
My heart did a double take!
I don’t know if you’re like me, and it takes your brain a while to settle before you can sink into blissful sleep. But my mind bounces all over the place—reviewing (analyzing) how I did that day, praying for those who need Jesus, or are struggling; the hurting, the confused, and the angry. In the dark, as exhaustion sets in, my focus is not always on how big God is to meet these needs, but how big these problems seem to be. And this diminishes my faith.
Through this one little verse, God challenged me to start a new bedtime ritual. Micah spoke these words to call God’s people to repentance; they really were plotting and planning evil! But for Jesus followers who truly want to live victoriously for Him, I’ve stated it in positive terms:
Blessed are those who plan to hope and trust in God, who strategize how to show His love to others as they lay on their beds! At morning’s light they will begin to speak and act on those thoughts, because He will work through them by the power of the Holy Spirit.
This is what I want to focus on as I drift off to sleep each night—hope, faithfulness, love, forgiveness, truth, victory, and a life of joy in Christ, even when circumstances feel dark and confusing.
Each of us prepare our minds for the day ahead by what we focus on as we drift off to sleep. What is your nighttime ritual? Is God calling you to make a change?
Thanks to a verse from the psalms, I have a new idea on how to start and end each day.
courtesy of Luis Quintero, Pexels
Thanksgiving is almost here and I’ve been trying to focus on being thankful each day this month. It’s an uphill fight, not that I don’t have loads to be thankful for, but because I’m having a hard time finding Thanksgiving anywhere. As soon as Halloween is over, everyone seems to skip directly to Christmas without stopping for a breath. Christmas movies, Christmas music, and Christmas lights appear, along with Christmas candy and gifts for everyone on your list (and of course the “much deserved” treats for the shopper along the way).
Thanksgiving gets only a nod. There aren’t even any specifically dedicated songs of Thanksgiving on Christian radio or in church. Other than ingredients for the traditional feast and a few decorations, we pretty much move right past this vitally important holiday. I know three holidays, three months in a row can be a lot to get excited about. But why miss one that can mean so much to us spiritually?
My theory is, we’re much better at eating, dressing up, partying, eating some more, and giving and getting mounds of presents, than showing gratitude. Me included. Don’t get me wrong, I love decorating, feasting, and presents, but I believe it is extremely important to pause and reflect on all the ways God has blessed us. At least one day a year.
Since I easily fall into complaining when everything doesn’t go my way, I try to practice this year-round, with a 3×5 reminder in my Bible to list 10 Things I’m Thankful For each day. And when we have days off or are traveling together, my husband and I take turns listing our ten items. Talking about them magnifies our gratitude even more.
That’s why my favorite part of Thanksgiving is when I pass out three candy corns to each family member and we take turns telling three things we’re thankful for. This represents the scarcity of food during the pilgrim’s first winter in America, when they purportedly had only 3 kernels of corn apiece. I can’t wait for this! And now, thanks to a random phrase from Psalm 149, I’m trying something else to practice grateful worship.
Psalm 149:1-5 says, “Praise the Lord. Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of his faithful people….For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with victory. Let his faithful people rejoice in this honor and sing for joy on their beds.”
That’s interesting, I thought. I’ve never noticed that before. I know singing has tremendous power to lift our spirits and elicit praise, but I never thought about singing in bed before. Sometimes, I go to bed or wake up with a song playing in my mind. But I’ve never put voice to it. It’s hard to sing from your diaphragm when you’re laying down.
So why would the psalmist invite God’s people to sing in bed? I found three reasons in this passage:
The Lord takes delight in His people.
He crowns the humble with victory.
It’s an honor to belong to God!
First, God delights in us. He loves it when we praise Him with others or singing to the radio in our car. So why not in the privacy of our own bed?
Second, out of gratitude for the victories He has given us. When we humbly seek Him, the Lord will help us conquer fear, addiction, bitterness, grief. So why not sing Him a nice praise song?
Third, no matter how hard the trials we face in this life, it’s an honor and privilege to be His children. We belong to Him. He is our Father, Shepherd, Guide, Comforter, Provider, Healer—our very life and breath! And He is preparing a place for His faithful people to live with Him in heaven.
I’ve been trying this—singing softly to myself before my husband comes to bed. The other night I started humming while we were both getting ready, and he surprised me by joining in. Morning is harder, my croaky voice doesn’t want to wake up and be cheerful, but as the notes rise, so does my spirit. Afterall, it’s not for show, but for Jesus.
I challenge you to try this. What other reasons can you and your family think of why we should sing in bed? How about singing a song with your kids as you tuck them in. Sing when you lay down, and when you awake. I’d love to hear how it changes your attitude of gratitude through each day and night to come.
The last day of our Weird Oregon trip, Sunday, October 25, dawned bright and sunny, but well below freezing. The Astoria Column, our first destination, rises 600 feet above sea level from Coxcomb Hill where ocean breezes chill even on warm days. So Kelly and I lingered in our hotel room until checkout. Finally, dressed in multiple layers for the day’s journey we set off. We found our way not only by GPS, but also by following the cleverly painted markers on the road shaped like the Astoria Column. It kind of feels like a treasure hunt as you wind your way up the hill.
On the way, Kelly told me that when he was a teenager he and a buddy from Tillamook used to drive the hour and a half just so they could race up the 164 spiral steps to the top. I think there might have been mention of ice cream and burgers in there somewhere too. We agreed we probably wouldn’t “race,” but we looked forward to the exercise and view from the top.
Patterned after Trajan’s Column in Rome built in 113 A.D., the Astoria Column was completed in 1926. Its fourteen scenes painted on the outside highlight northwest history—the native wilderness, the Lewis and Clark expedition, and the arrival of the railroad. We tried to identify each scene, but our necks gave up before we could circle the column that many times. Again, we had to settle for outdoor viewing since the stairs were closed due to COVID. A lot of people were enjoying it anyway.
Down the hill a bit, a canoe marks Chief Comcomly’s gravesite, a Chinook native who helped Lewis and Clark in their expedition. Even in the biting wind, the view was exquisite and worth the visit.
While we warmed up on our way out of town, we read about a couple of Columbia River sea monsters: Colossal Claude and Marvin. Regular Claude sightings by ship captains and their crews occurred from 1934-1950. The men described it as forty feet long, with long tan hair and a head like a horse or camel.
In 1963 divers for the Shell Oil Company spotted another unusual animal off the coast. They filmed something fifteen feet long swimming in a spiral pattern in the water and sent it to authorities for identification. The experts did not agree—it could be a collection of jellyfish, a chain of salps (invertebrates that move together in coil patterns), or the spine of a plesiosaur or other kind of prehistoric creature. Locals dubbed the animal in the film Marvin.
So caught up in these stories, we were miles down the road when I realized our second stop, Fort Clatsop, was far behind in Astoria. The original seven buildings constructed by the Lewis and Clark gang in March of 1805 had rotted away. Historians designed a replica to be built on the most likely site of the original in 1955. After a fire destroyed it, they built an even more authentic version in 2005. Kelly and I agreed to add Fort Clatsop to our list of “future trips” and continued driving south on 101 toward Fort Stevens near Hammond, Oregon.
Despite the cold, Kelly and I had a great time walking the expansive grounds for two hours looking at military vehicles, guns, and underground buildings. There are trails everywhere, which I’d like to go back and walk when the weather is warmer, plus a Frisbee golf course with a killer view of the Columbia. We learned Fort Stevens was the only military base attacked in the continental U.S. during World War II. When Japanese submarines began to fire on the Fort, Maj. Robert Huston realized they were landing far short. He wisely instructed his men not to return fire and give away their location. It worked; the subs gave up and left, and the Fort and all the men in it were saved.
As we wound through the neighborhood on our way back to the highway, we came across another small herd of elk. The full rack of antlers on the bull looked intimidating. And even though he seemed pretty calm I wondered how the neighbors felt with him guarding his harem so close to their homes.
On the final stretch, we decided to stop in Seaside. We love walking and visiting shops in this sweet coastal town. It has the deepest stretch of beach between land and sea I think I’ve ever seen. It was significantly warmer by then so we walked along the promenade. From the other end a marvelous jazz musician serenaded us on his saxophone. On the way back to our car we discovered a new shop with smoked salmon, chocolates, and other delicious local products. Don’t tell, but we did a little Christmas shopping!
At this point we both echoed the message from Kelly’s hot sauce packet at lunch: “Take me home.” After ten days of traveling the great state of Oregon we were totally weirded out, in a good way, and ready to get home. Most of what we experienced was not as weird as it was interesting and unique. Some of it made us laugh or feel a sense of pride; much of it elicited exclamations of wonder in the natural beauty and variety of Oregon; some of our history struck us with grief. I guess we could view our lives the same way.
As I look back on my less than sixty years, many memories bring laughter; I’m proud of some of the things I’ve said and done; mostly, I am filled with wonder at how God brought beauty from even the worst times in my life. I grieve over the times I spoke or behaved badly, and habits or relationships I continued in that harmed both me and others.
Although Kelly and I learned some of the wicked past of Oregon, we didn’t let this information ruin our trip, or convince us to move to another state. We did ask God to cleanse and heal our land, however, and for the people of Oregon to have hearts to seek Him now. It’s not enough to be shocked about the past if history just repeats itself in our generation.
Paul told the believers in Corinth, “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death” (2 Corinthians 7:10). I want to live without regrets. That doesn’t mean I minimize the sins of my past, but that I leave them at the foot of the cross where Jesus covers me with His forgiveness and gives me a fresh start. He takes away sin’s power to hurt me, and turns those memories into an impetus for change. And every day of this journey I’m closer to my forever Home, where Jesus reigns in perfect radiant light.
If you are a weird, fallible, Jesus-loving follower of the living God you know He can transform even a strange year of extreme challenges into a time of wonder, delight, victory, repentance, and new beginnings. Despite tragedies and disappointments, if you trust in the Lord, you can choose gratitude because you’re on your way Home.
Thank you for coming along on our journey. I hope you will share your weird and wonderful discoveries from 2020 with us as well.
Many Portlanders pride themselves on keeping Portland weird. After our visit on Saturday, October 24, I’d say they’re doing a pretty good job. What we learned fell into three main categories: wicked, weird, or wonderful.
Our last name may be Vice but Portland’s wicked history has us beat. Quoting Weird Oregon authors Eufrasio and Davis, “Portland has been known as a hotbed of vice.” In the 1940’s pinball machines were the big concern. Mayor Dorothy Lee’s efforts to crack down on illegal gambling were thwarted by underworld leaders and dishonest policemen until the 70’s.
That’s nothing, however, compared to the cruelty of the Shanghai Tunnels. Originally built to move products in and out of Portland, the five miles of underground passageways began to traffic in men as well. Crimps targeted transients and drunks. Those not already passed out were drugged and delivered to ship captains who bought them for $50 apiece. Most didn’t wake up until they were at sea. When the captains no longer needed them, they were let off the ship wherever they happened to be at the time. Many never made it home again. 1,500 to 3,000 men a year were kidnapped from 1870-1915. The tunnels, and a very dark period of Portland’s history, were sealed in 1941.
Kelly and I have often seen a line of people waiting to buy a raspberry jelly filled doughnut in the shape of a doll at Voodoo Donuts, complete with a pretzel for stabbing your victim. But in case you’re not into hexes and blood, they have a lot of other unusual flavors as well. Kelly and I decided to skip the line and went to a park instead.
We had hiked to the Witch’s Castle (or stone house) in Macleay Park before, but never knew its history. The land where it sits was originally owned by the Balch family, whose daughter fell in love with the hired boy, Mortimer Stump. Dad was not happy when they asked to marry, so they eloped. Whether he intended to kill his daughter’s new husband or it happened by accident as he claimed, Stanford Balch’s double-barreled shotgun went off in Mortimer’s face. Balch ran, but was eventually caught, tried, and convicted for murder. We chose to cast all wickedness aside and be grateful for the well-kept trail and crisp fall day.
The next wicked destination was the Fulton House, Nancy Bogg’s former floating bordello (brothel). Apparently she managed to escape police raids by moving her house from shore to shore, doing big business in the 1880’s. After that, no one seemed to know what happened to her or the house until John and Wendy Fencsak bought it in 1990 to remodel for a bed and breakfast. A former owner and historical records described how the house had been moved by a team of horses from its location on the river bank and set on its current foundation and put to good use.
Beginning the Weird part of the day we traveled to Mills End, the World’s Smallest Park, on Naito Parkway and Taylor. A variety of plants have lived in this two foot circle of dirt in downtown Portland. On the day we visited, a dead branch stood bravely in place. Just before we crossed the street to take pictures, another couple did the same thing. We wondered if they were on a Weird Oregon trip of their own.
Our next stop was Giants Gym on Sandy Blvd to find a twenty-two foot, one ton, fiberglass “hulk.” The gym is now Hollywood Fitness and the giant is gone. When we told the girl at the desk about our quest she discovered a picture of the statue on the wall. It was fun to find it together.
We read about other weird places and people on our way to our next photo shoot with a twenty-six foot tall fiberglass rabbit named Harvey, at Harvey Marine in Aloha. COVID, time, and distance prevented us from visiting the Rimsky-Korsakoffee House, Pioneer Courthouse Square, Chinatown, the Willamette Meteorite (now on display in NY), Mondo Extremo the Clown, some unusual tombstones in the area, and the source of Portland’s water supply—Bull Run Reservoir.
Even rain is strange sometimes in Portland. On June 4, 1894 it rained ice fragments three to four inches square and one inch thick. Dark rubbery objects fell from the sky in June of 1911 and turned out to be salamanders. And in 1920 another storm brought a downpour of “glistening, white fragments” like china. So the next time you’re in Portland and it starts to rain, you might want to run for cover!
Our day in Portland ended with some wonderful stories. We read about Bobbie the Wonder Dog who traveled across seven states to get back to his family after they were separated while on vacation. Six months and 2,551 miles later, he came home. A little white house with red trim marks his final resting place in the Oregon Humane Society Pet Cemetery.
Kelly and I pass the Burger Family in front of the Shute Park Aquatic & Recreation Center in Hillsboro all the time, but never knew their story. In the 1950’s and 60’s chain mascots became popular and the Burger Family represented A&W. When the Hillsboro restaurant closed in 1984 the community couldn’t bear to part with their Family. They did a brief stint at Papa Aldo’s, but Teen disappeared, and Baby suffered a broken arm from an overly zealous admirer. The remaining three members were donated to the city. After Hillsboro art students repaired Baby, an orphan Teen came from Longview, Washington, and the Burger Family was again complete. The heartwarming story of a family overcoming adversity, even if they’re burger mascots, is enough to make you smile as you drive past.
Kelly couldn’t resist giving Baby a hug!
Our last stop on Saturday was the World’s Tallest Barber Pole at Pacific University in Forest Grove. Chuck Olsen’s idea to build the biggest and best for the 1973 barber shop convention in Portland involved painting a seventy foot tall pole with red, white, and blue stripes. It made a hit and when his quartet arrived home the town put it on permanent display on the University football field.
On our way north to Astoria, Kelly spotted a herd of elk grazing just off the main highway. We drove in slowly but they didn’t seem to be worried. I’m sure hunters would have drooled over this opportunity, but we just admired these majestic creatures. The setting sun created a dramatic backdrop.
I couldn’t get over the beauty of the evening as we passed over the Columbia River into Astoria and amazing view from our hotel room.
Wicked, Weird, and Wonderful not only describes our day, but is an apt description of mankind in general. We have all heard about evil deeds and cruelty beyond imagining. If we’re honest, we see our own propensity for wickedness and our desperate need for God’s power to change.
We’re all a little weird too. Some in adorable, quirky ways, others so far off center you wonder how they keep from falling over. But God loves each one of us just the same.
And wonderful—on this day of Thanksgiving I am grateful for all the wonderful people who have touched my life. I’m thankful for their kind words, smiles, hugs, music, presence, prayers, and godly counsel.
I hope you’ll join us for one last day of Weird Oregon. In the meantime Happy Thanksgiving! Speaking of which, Thanksgiving may be weird this year, yet we still have much to celebrate for which we can be thankful. Weird can still be good because God is good.
One of my family’s favorite commercials when I was young was the lady in a yellow house dress advertising Tarnex. She confided to her TV audience the trials of being a housewife. “You have to clean the house and cook the food, but the most miserable and time-consuming job of all is cleaning and polishing the silverware.” My parents, sisters, and I all quoted her lines by heart, especially funny to us since my mom had a yellow dress exactly like hers.
This lady would have appreciated Frances Gabe’s self-cleaning house. She was a forward-thinker who hated housecleaning too. Kelly and I read her story from Weird Oregon and watched a video interview with her from 2014 and her modified house in Newberg, Oregon. It didn’t look very cozy, but it is fascinating to think about never having to clean again.
Day 8 of our trip, Friday, October 23, we spent mostly at the Evergreen Aviation Museum in McMinnville, Oregon. It features Howard Hughes’ Spruce Goose–made entirely of birch, balsa, and basswood and the largest plane in the world at the time. Built to serve in World War II as a cargo plane, it took too long to build and never made it to war. If you’re an air and space nut this is the museum for you! I am neither, but thought Kelly would enjoy it. I had no idea how much! Kelly got hooked on all the details about pilots, planes, engineering, training, and space travel.
The Spruce Goose in the background, the centerpiece of the large building
The Sopwith Camel, made even more famous by Charles Schultz’s cartoon character Snoopy
We learned how people’s dreams of flying and outer space travel became reality because of the ingenuity and courage of the men and women who designed, built, and flew them. We toured all three buildings—the air museum, movie theater, and space museum. It was very cold, so bundle up when you visit.
Does it say anything about how scientifically minded I am that my favorite part of the space museum was the space character selfie posters?
There is no try, only do.
When we left that afternoon it felt good to get toasty in the car on our way to the Bomber Complex in Milwaukie. In 1947 an aviation buff named Art Lacey thought he might attract more business to his gas station if he parked a WWII B-17 in the lot. He flew to the Altus Air Force Base in Oklahoma and eventually got permission to buy a surplus plane for $13,750.
His first attempt to fly it home involved a mannequin co-pilot, crash landing into another B-17 (injuring them both), and actually being allowed to go home with a different plane! The government wrote off the first two as “wind damaged.” The second time around he got two live pilots to help him and after a few more adventures they landed the plane at the Troutdale airport. Since it was still more than twenty miles to Milwaukie, he applied for a special permit to bring it by truck; the request stalled in bureaucratic tape. Tired of waiting, Art took his extra large load to his gas station via four trucks at 2:00 am. He was fined $10 for illegal transport.
The Bomber Complex once. included the gas station (until 1991), a restaurant, and gift shop. Now the lot sports only a sign and coffee cart. A ring of apartments encircle the former War Garden, guarded by a Native American totem pole and a growing population of fluffy bunnies.
Two miles from the Complex in front of a strip mall, is an unexpected bit of patriotism—a sixty foot tall replica of The Statue of Liberty. Pretty impressive! I guess she had a hard time settling in—a piece of her crown broke off as they were setting her in place and caused an electrical fire. But she was quickly repaired and now stands straight and tall, a reminder of our country’s promise to welcome those seeking safety and freedom.
It was getting dark as we headed to our hotel. We were filled with gratitude for all the dreamers and inventors God has inspired through the years—whether they acknowledged Him as the Source of their genius or not. My curiosity prompted a little research. How many professing Christians were inventors or have made major scientific and medical discoveries? The list is staggering! Here are just a few I found interesting:
Nicole Oresme (1323-1382): Discovered the curvature of light through atmospheric refraction.
William Turner (1508-1568): “Father of English botany;” also an ornithologist. Arrested for preaching in favor of the Reformation.
Francis Bacon (1561-1626): Established today’s scientific method of inductive reasoning.
Galileo Galilei (1564-1642): Italian astronomer, physicist, engineer, philosopher, and mathematician.
Isaac Newton (1643-1727): Discovered gravity.
William Kirby (1759-185): Introduced the atomic theory.
Louis Pasteur (1822-1895): Discovered the principles of vaccination and pasteurization.
Joseph Lister (1827-1912): British surgeon and pioneer of antiseptic surgery.
Lord Kelvin (1824-1907): Proposed the mathematical analysis of electricity and formulated the first and second laws of thermodynamics.
George Washington Carver (1864-1943): American scientist, botanist, educator, and inventor.
Igor Sikorsky (1889-1972): Aviation pioneer in helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft.
Wernher von Braun (1912-1977): Developer and champion of space exploration.
Joseph Murray (1919-2012): Pioneer of transplant surgeries.
Katherine Johnson (1918-2020): Space scientist, physicist, and mathematician whose calculations were critical to U.S. manned spaceflights (Featured in the movie Hidden Figures.).
Fred Brooks (1931-present day): Computer scientist and software engineer. Evangelical Christian active with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship; helped with 1973 Billy Graham Crusade.
None of these men and women saw their faith as an impediment to dream, invent, study, or teach. Their faith in the God of creation fueled their desire to meet challenges head on, imagining the impossible and making it reality. I am thankful for these curious, intelligent, persistent people and the contributions they made to our lives today.
What Christian dreamer or inventor has inspired you? Click on the title to this post and leave a comment sharing your story.
See you here tomorrow for Day 9 when Kelly and I venture into the weirdest places of all, in the Portland area.
Our trip was more than halfway over and Kelly and I were in a rhythm. On Thursday, October 22, we reviewed our list and headed out for sightseeing in Salem. Even though the temperature had dropped, the sun was shining and it promised to be a glorious day.
I had planned to start at Enchanted Forest—home to storybook characters, a slide through an old woman’s shoe, and a bobsled ride. I used to take my girls there every year when school let out and it is one of Kelly and my favorite places to play with our grand kids…or without them. But since it was closed for the season we did our best to locate the former site of the Fairview Training Center, our first stop.
Its history is a sad one. I remember it was still open my senior year of high school but didn’t know anything about it then. The original intent was to train those with handicaps and disabilities to care for themselves and others. When they opened in 1908, they raised animals on the 672-acre spread and most of their own food. But somewhere along the line those in charge lost sight of their purpose and compassion for their patients. The institution became a dumping place for epileptics, promiscuous girls, hitchhikers, and the homeless. Care-givers carried out sterilization, hysterectomies, even castration to keep their residents in check, and to prevent their breeding with other “undesirables.” Eventually this came to light and Fairview closed its doors in the year 2000.
After that sad bit of history, Kelly and I were glad to go to Mission Mill. The Thomas Kay family opened the Mill in 1889 and it operated until 1962 when wool was replaced by synthetic fabrics. They opened the museum in 1964 for tours and events and now host a café and cluster of shops that sell beautiful woolen yarn, crafts, and local products. For the price of admission, we were given a passkey for our own self-guided tour to three homes and Presbyterian church, moved on site to preserve their historic significance, and the mill. We roamed at our own pace learning about the rich history and stalwart spirit of the missionaries, businessmen, and Native Americans who settled this area.
Our next stop didn’t take long. I have passed it thousands of times over the years but never knew its significance. Waldo Park, on the corner of Union and Summer St., consists of a single sequoia tree planted by Judge William Waldo in 1872. When he was forced to sell his land to the city his only stipulation was they keep the tree. A hundred and fifty years later it still stands, on a twenty by twelve foot corner of land dubbed Waldo Park in 1936. It reaches more than eighty feet tall and more than six feet in diameter. Looking up into its branches we smiled at Waldo’s appreciation for a tiny sapling that became a mighty tree.
Although the sun was strong, the wind was cold. It felt good to get inside the Taproot downtown and warm up with a delicious lunch. Kelly and I shared a monkey bread roll from Great Harvest next door. We will definitely visit both places again!
Our final destination wasn’t weird, just a celebration of all things autumn. We drove to EZ Orchards and the place was packed! We decided to forego cider donuts since we’d just had a yummy lunch and dessert and instead stood in line for the entrance. The corn maze was the best, with interesting informational signs at every turn about Oregon nuts, fruits, and veggies.
Satisfied with our day, Kelly and I set the GPS for McMinnville, where we settled in for the night. We learned a lot of Salem area history–delightful, shocking, inspiring, and fun. The choices we make today—for our families, the people entrusted to our care, in our work, and how we spend our time and money—leaves a legacy. I paused to ask myself, What life story am I writing? What will I leave the next generation?
I know what I want to pass on to them; the same thing the writer of this psalm desired: “I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, Sovereign Lord; I will proclaim your righteous deeds, yours alone. Since my youth, God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come” (Psalm 71:16-18).
I am so thankful for the legacy left to me by my parents, grandparents and church family, near and far. They not only taught me about God’s love and mercy, but they lived it. I saw firsthand what it means to be a God-follower and how to get through tough times with determination and tenacious faith. And to never stop singing.That is what I hope I have passed on to my children and our grandchildren. What tremendous blessings await us!
I would love to hear about the legacy you are building. What is your story? To leave a comment, click on the title of the blog and fill in the box.
Tomorrow we will visit a few dreamers and inventors. Come along for more weird adventures on our tour of Oregon.
After having two less hurried days, Kelly and I decided to go with the same plan on Wednesday, October 21, and go to only one place on the list. We set our sights on Silver Creek Falls near Sublimity and read about everything else from our book on the way.
Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh gathered disciples at an alarming rate at the former Rajneeshee commune and almost overran the town of Antelope. Although he promoted free love there was nothing free about his teachings—evidenced by his collection of ninety Rolls Royces paid for by his followers. Things began to unravel when several unhappy Rajneeshees told the press that the salmonella outbreak in The Dalles had indeed been intentional as suspected. They also leaked information about their leader’s bio-warfare labs and plans to use infectious viruses in the future. After years of struggle, he was finally tried and deported back to India. In a lovely stroke of justice, the former commune is now a Young Life Christian youth camp.
Next we read about the mysterious appearance of a quarter mile wide image of the Sri Yantra on the desert floor of the Mickey Basin. Bill Miller first spotted it from the air and no one seemed to know who carved this giant Hindu meditation symbol on the Alvord Desert floor. Bill Witherspoon, an artist from Iowa, finally admitted he and his team of helpers had dug the 13.3 miles of lines, ten inches wide and three inches deep. Despite his explanation and even video footage of the process, many desperately wanted to believe it had more to do with aliens, UFO’s or a mystical message from the gods, and debated it for years afterward.
Kelly and I read more stories about Sasquatch sightings and another water critter in the northeast corner of Oregon named Willowa Lake Wally. We read some disturbing facts about 1,001 concrete bunkers along I-84 called the Umatilla Chemical Depot between Boardman and Stanford. After the use of chemical warfare in World War I, the US decided to prepare our own for World War II, but vowed we would only use them if absolutely necessary. Thankfully we never did, but then had to figure out how to safely dispose of them. It was a slow process, but the last was slated for decommissioning by 2012. How cruel is war and how far-reaching the effects!
Also in 1941, the government decided to create a place for soldier training between Eugene and Corvallis, a few months before the Pearl Harbor attack. Camp Adair grew to a forty-four thousand acre training facility. During its operation (1942-1969) the 1,800 buildings served as warehouses, barracks, chapels, recreation facilities, and a hospital. During the war it became a temporary POW camp and cemetery for those who did not make it home.
The Trojan Nuclear Reactor in St. Helens took five years to build at the cost of $450 million and only provided electricity for three years before things went awry—the discovery of an earthquake fault nearby, construction errors, and the formation of a crack that leaked radioactive water. The reactor operated from 1975-1992, and the estimated decommissioning and demolition expenditures equaled what it cost to build. Even so, it was fun to watch the YouTube video of its demolition in 2006.
After that we took a break to look around as we drove. The recent Beachie Creek Fire along the Santiam highway destroyed 182,000 acres of forest and communities. The road reopened only days before our trip. This familiar route of mountains and hills of green forests with lush undergrowth, and the lovely Detroit Lake community and other small towns along the way, now looked tragically naked. Some stretches remained untouched, but most were leveled by the fire. Where homes once graced the Lakeside, blackened chimneys stood as mute survivors. We grieved for the families affected and prayed for their restoration and the rebuilding of their homes and businesses. Forestry workers and locals alike worked everywhere to salvage fallen trees and clear the way for construction and reforestation.
Then, as suddenly as it had turned black, everything was green again as we neared Silver Creek Falls. What makes this a “weird” location is its history with Al Faussett, who bought the land and the surrounding acreage when the owners refused to let him ride the falls in his homemade craft. Faussett first got hooked on fall jumping in 1926 when a movie crew offered $1,500 to anyone willing to ride a canoe down the Sunset Falls in Washington for a western they were filming. The stunt got cancelled, but Al chose to do it anyway and that was the first of his many fall jumping stunts including Eagle Falls, Spokane Falls, Oregon City Falls, and Silver Falls. His final jump off Shoshone Falls was the highest of all.
The road to Silver Creek Falls winds through hillsides of neatly planted Christmas trees of all sizes. Although Kelly and I have been there many times over the years, each visit is a delight. By the time we reached the north falls trailhead the misting rain had stopped and we were thrilled to get out in the brisk autumn air for a hike to the upper and lower South Falls, admiring true northwest beauty at every turn.
Everything we read and experienced on Day 6 of our weird adventure, reminded me of the word “seekers.” We are created with hearts that long to be filled; we may try many things, but only a relationship with God will satisfy. The Rajneeshees followed a deluded guru who promised love but delivered only lies. The Sri Yantra offers clear-minded meditation, but leaves its followers empty. Stories of UFO’s, Bigfoot, and sea serpents titillate our attraction to the mysterious, but cannot come close to the mystery of the God of the Universe. We seek safety, power, and thrills. Again, nothing compares with the Almighty God who abundantly gives His followers all that and more.
Jesus said it this way: “For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matthew 6:32-34).
Kelly and I left Silver Falls and headed for Salem feeling satisfied with the way we spent our day. As we continually look to God to fill us up, no matter what comes our way–old age, sickness, financial worries, political upheaval, or a worldwide pandemic–we know God has a plan and purpose in it all. And He will take us safely home.
Come join us tomorrow for our excursions in Salem, my hometown, where we learned a bit of history and played in a corn maze like kids. Remember, if you’d like to leave a comment, just click on the title of the post and the comment box will appear. I always love hearing from my readers and other readers enjoy your comments as well!
One thing Kelly and I realized after our wonderful day Monday—less is more. Although it sounds great to see eight things in one day, it is not relaxing. Since this was Kelly’s gift I wanted it to be enjoyable for him and not take him home exhausted. So on Tuesday, October 20, we reduced our itinerary from three destinations to one. It was such a good decision!
We will make a point to see Petersen’s Rock Garden and Museum in Redmond, and Monkey Face Rock north of there another time, when we can give them the attention they deserve. From this trip alone we will have enough places we didn’t visit for several more excursions.
With that settled we slept in, puttered around the house a bit, and got coffee on our way through Sisters to Cove Palisades. The entrance to the State Park was a little more than an hour away and it was quite a distance past that to the Balancing Rocks.
As we wound along crossing and re-crossing the Crooked River, we admired the deep blue water, rock formations, and a petroglyph on display along the side of the road.
As before, having the book and online information still wasn’t enough to get us there. So we pulled over at a market at the top of the hill, bought a couple candy bars, and asked a local.
“Keep going up this road.” she said, “When you get to the end of the asphalt take a right at an unmarked pullout and you’ll find a trail. That’s it.”
It was just as she said.
We could see the river snaking below. Kelly saw a snake making a hasty exit from the trail of buff-colored gravel. Then I was on the lookout for any more on our way to the lookout. You can either view the Balancing Rocks from there or venture down the scree-covered hill for a closer look.
Of course we went down. What incredible weight each column must hold! A sign warned us not to tamper with them lest we destroy the wonder of what took years to form. Kelly had seen on the news this actually happened a few years ago. A couple troop leaders took their scouts to see the Balancing Rocks and encouraged them to push them over! Marveling at them now we were outraged. How long it takes for a masterpiece to develop; how quickly it can be destroyed.
I was excited to find these two completely different rocks side by side
The striking serenity of the rocks made me think how beautiful and rare it is to see a life lived in balance. It’s a constant challenge to maintain a healthy equilibrium between work and play, spending and saving, time with others and solitude, talking and listening. Balance in all areas of life, and keeping a solid foundation that won’t crumble.
I admire the wisdom of a man named Agur whose prayer is quoted in Proverbs: “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God” (Proverbs 30:8-9, NIV). It’s easy to think we don’t need God when we’re doing well. When times are tough we’re tempted to despair and think God doesn’t care. But when we are thankful for what we have, our lives are balanced enough to worship Him and serve others.
It was early afternoon when we headed back for another night at Black Butte Ranch. I had surprised Kelly with a massage appointment and we planned to dress up for dinner out. The air had turned chilly so while he relaxed, I bundled for a walk to admire the fall colors. It had been a perfect day, with a much slower pace, and just what we needed.
