The tragic loss of country schools
May 2024 My husband Keith and I attended a reunion of grade school students who once attended District 8 country school. Keith attended until grade five when his parents moved to another farm. Joe Widdowson, along with his wife Jean, planned the event.
As we entered the Lucky Duck in Gibbon where the reunion was held, I was surprised at how many showed up, including one teacher. Other teachers sent letters. One former student traveled all the way from Arizona. Some recognized me from Kearney Christian Women’s Connection (KCWC) luncheon (I used to do the newsletter), or from my columns in the Hub. It was nice to have that familiarity since I really didn’t think I’d know anyone much beyond Joe and Jean.
It was good for Keith to catch up with old friends and as we ate and conversed, to be reminded of those long-ago school days. Eventually District 8 school was discontinued, and students attended town schools.
Until sixth grade, I attended schools in the different towns, and states, where my pastor dad served church congregations. That changed when he was called to a country church in Northern Kansas. We loved the church and its people. The farming community also had a small one teacher country school. All grades first through 8th were in one room. There were two other students in my class other than myself.
I quickly learned, I wasn’t as advanced as the other girls in my class and had to work to catch up. Each grade had desks together. We also did things like music together. Another positive was that we learned and kept remembering the basics because we older kids often worked with the younger students. Mrs. Carmen had a well-oiled system that worked. She made me feel special even though she had to deal with all the students in all elementary grades.
She not only taught reading, writing, science and math, she also taught self-reliance, research, and the satisfaction of helping others. We learned responsibility as we helped younger kids and each other. Recess was time for races and playing games. We each brought our lunch. In the process, we bonded as a group. At the time Kansas had quite a few country schools in existence.
After completing 8th grade all the students both from the country and town schools, were required to go to the high school and take a proficiency test. Interestingly, year after year, the country school students scored higher than those who attended town schools. That didn’t surprise me since I’d been behind when I’d gone from a small-town school to a country school.
Yet, a few years down the road, consolidation became the rage. Larger schools could offer more opportunities, parents were told. Larger schools meant better-equipped science labs, and on and on. The country schools became a relic of the past. Small towns also lost one of their centers as smaller towns consolidated their schools into larger ones often between the towns.
No one seemed to take seriously the difference in scores from town and country students. No one considered that schools as well as churches anchored a community. When pioneers established homes and farms, one of their first considerations was to build a school often used for both school and church. Americans were committed to education and made it happen as soon as possible.
Country schools had benefits larger schools don’t have, several already mentioned here. Smaller schools allow for more personal attention, especially with students who fall through the cracks in a larger school setting—or they become troublemakers. Parents have more say in a smaller setting and those involved are often family, friends, etc. which makes everyone adults and kids more accountable.
Getting rid of country schools was a colossal mistake. At Keith’s reunion I watched those from all grades share positive memories of their time at the District 8 school. Years ago, I watched Bill and Malinda Gates on a talk show. They spoke about the failures of large schools. They proposed small neighborhood schools.
I agree we need to rethink our view of education and start thinking smaller instead of larger, so the focus isn’t on administration, government or often forced curriculum, but on basics and care and concern for the ones, supposedly, for whom schools exist—our children. Umm. Sounds like the country schools still have something to offer. I wish someone would take this idea seriously.
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published column Kearney Hub 6/27/2024
…Loss of our country schools
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Life, hope, tornadoes
Photo by Nikolas Noonan on Unsplash
I don’t remember hearing much about tornadoes when I was very young. Since my father was a minister, we moved every few years to different churches. We lived in Canada where my dad, at times, hitchhiked (something more common in those days) in 50 degrees below zero weather. We lived in Minnesota and Wisconsin where I entered first grade. We were much more concerned with ice and snow than tornadoes.
I don’t recall much about tornadoes even when we lived in eastern Wyoming. It was dry country. When storms came, they came quick and violent with pounding sheets of rain and hail. Didn’t have much snow and many of the creek beds were dry except during spring runoff when the water roared through the creek beds and were best stayed away from.
Things changed when we moved to northwest Kansas. There we discovered tornadoes were a weather phenomenon that elicited caution at the very least. The parsonage basement had been made into a living area with one large room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. Definitely, a pretty nice place to head for in bad weather and safety when tornadoes were spotted. I got sick in Kansas and was soon wheelchair-bound.
Was it the difficulty in getting the wheelchair down the stairs that kept us upstairs because I really don’t recall times we headed for the basement? Or was it because I spent much of our time in Kansas at rehab centers in Arkansas and Minneapolis?
In Iowa, we headed toward an interior room as we did once our family moved to Kearney, NE so I could attend college. After my husband Keith and I married, my brother built us a house geared toward my limitations. That meant no stairs and no basement.
When sirens warned of a tornado, I’d grab the kids, the pets, the radio, and snacks and hunker down in the main bathroom. It was the safest place as it was in the center of the house and without windows. (Keith was generally at work when sirens sounded.)
Storms and tornadoes tore off screen doors and damaged the roof—more than once. Thick branches were ripped from our trees. But we remained safe and thankful.
April 2024, we had a Scheidies’ weekend gathering. Keith’s siblings, kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids gather at the farm on Saturday and at the Mitzi Pavilion for Sunday brunch before everyone heads home to Colorado, Omaha, etc. This year, tornadoes hit hard sweeping through Nebraska. The Omaha area was hit hard. Our daughter and family live in Papillion.
Friday afternoon they started toward Kearney only to be warned about two tornadoes. Our son lives in Lincoln. Instead of continuing to Kearney, Kurt and Cassie and the kids diverted to Chris’ house to wait out the worst before continuing to Kearney.
It was tense. We covered them with prayer when they got back on the road. Cassie sent a photo of a tornado they missed by minutes. Despite the storms and rain, everyone got to the gathering safely and made it home safely. The weekend was a good time for catching up, hugs, and bonding with food, games, and fellowship.
Tornadoes are unpredictable in our environment, but our lives are also filled with tornadoes—those circumstances that throw us off our plans or bring pain or other tragedies in our lives. Even during our reunion, we thought about Keith’s brother Mark as the date marked when he lost his life to a freak accident. His wife Jenni remembered with tears but has also moved on with life and love—as Mark wanted.
Even in times of turmoil, we need to be careful not to wallow in the past. Grieve, deal with the situation, and cling to hope and faith. Let others come alongside. One step at a time, we can move forward and walk into a new tomorrow.
(c) 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Column published Kearney Hub 6/8/2024
https://kearneyhub.com/eedition/page-a4/page_04798001-befd-56a7-afbe-76ebc2f149c8.html
The Truth About HOPE
Hope is what keeps us going
when all seems lost.
Hope is what keeps us from giving up
…despite the cost.
Hope is not a feeling
…to be mustered at will within.
Hope is God’s voice
drawing us to Him.
I have set the LORD always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices: my flesh also shall rest in hope. Psalm 16:8-9
(C) 2016 Carolyn R Scheidies
From When It Hurts
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Darkest Hour
Photo by Talha Imam on Unsplash
Sometimes in that darkest hour
When our hearts are bowed with pain
We’re open then to listen
Call on Jesus name.
For when the heart is broken
We’re ready to receive
The healing touch of Jesus
and His peace which heals
and sets us free.
(c) 1994. 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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WINGS
A crutch I find,
Is crucial for the less-than-able,
(Like me)
But I Am Thankful
Christ
Did more at Calvary
Than provide a prop;
Jesus gave me wings,
And taught me how to fly.
(C) 2016 Carolyn R Scheidies
From When It Hurts
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God’s Toddler
Step by step
Falling, getting up
Trying again
Moment by moment
Day by day
Learning to trust
Hesitantly, slowly
Letting go fear, failure, self
Giving Jesus full control
To peace and hope and life.
(c) 1994. 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Low Road
Photo by Michael Pointner on Unsplash
Foundering on the low road
in Satan’s quagmire of
Darkness and destruction, I despair
But—by His power, Jesus lifts me up
Holds me tight and sets me free
to travel the King’s highway
To light and love and life.
(c) 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Do We Trust Him in the Dark times?
When the day is darkest
When the rain begins to flail
Don’t give up whatever the circumstances
Just call on Jesus’ name
Even in the darkest hours
When vision is obscured
Jesus asks us to simply trust
Rely upon His Word
For Jesus is trustworthy
We need not fear the night
For as the Promise Keeper
Christ turns darkness into light
(c) 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Mother’s Day, Father’s Day—Both important
We celebrate Mother's Day with lots of promotions to honor our moms with all sorts of gifts and recognition. The advertisements can be rather overboard because Mother's Day brings in big bucks for businesses.
Of course, we should honor our moms. I have no problem with that. I support honoring mothers. Most work hard, love their kids, and greatly sacrifice for their well-being.
Besides, I am a mom. Of course, I want to hear from my kids on Mother's Day. 2024, my daughter called in the morning before church. Their family celebrated on Saturday because their 7-year-old daughter, our granddaughter, was having medical procedures on Monday and wouldn't be eating from noon Mother's Day until her procedures were finished at noon Monday. Her mom, in solidarity, chose not to eat either. How can one not see the love and admire that sacrifice?
We'd gone to church. Keith brought in lunch, so I didn't have to cook or fight crowds — just relax. He knows I like hats. He bought me two.
My son called later that day. Our kids don't live in Kearney and have their own families. The calls were like bookends encapsulating a special day. In between, I received other greetings from those close to us.
Yes, Mother's Day was special. As it should be. But, shouldn't Father's Day be special as well? It takes both mothers and fathers to raise healthy, well-adjusted children. Yet fathers don't get the hoopla mothers receive.
They should. Without my father, I would be a very different person. I needed my father's strength and wisdom as well as my mother's. Advertisers don't seem to put too many of their advertising dollars or attention into Father's Day. We should. Fathers are critical. God created moms and dads as protection and provision for vulnerable children. Parents are far from perfect, but most do their best.
We celebrate Mother's Day. Let's also be sure to celebrate the Father in our lives who made a difference. So for Father's Day, visit, call, send a card, text.
Let him know you care. Let your parents know you are thankful and grateful for the life they gave you. Celebrations help us remember. Honor mothers and fathers not only on their special days, but also on every day of the year. Now is the time. Love them well, while they are still here.
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies Published Column Kearney Hub 5/30/2024
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https://kearneyhub.com/moms-dads-days-important/article_c405a05c-8812-510b-a98d-96c4c2206f66.html
The Mask
Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash
We hide behind masks
Grotesque plastic falsehoods
In our deep hurt wonder why
No one reaches out
As we retreat
Yet Jesus reaches out
A still small voice
Offering hope, healing and life
In responding
Gain confidence
To drop the mask
Learning to live
In the light of His love
Finally, abundantly
And truly free.
(c) 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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The Work of the Spirit
Photo by Tamara Bravo on Unsplash
As a desert storm
Uncovers buried skeletons
So God’s convicting Spirit
Uncovers sin buried deep within
And sets me free.
As God’s Spirit
Wafts through my heart
Like a refreshing breeze
Debris from my past is swept away
Refreshing my inner being.
As a Winter storm
Creates beautiful snow sculptures
So God’s Spirit
Reforms my life
Into a masterpiece for Him.
(c) 1994, 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Life, love, perseverance, dinner
Ever since we were married a whole lot of years ago, we’ve tried to celebrate our monthly anniversary each second, usually, by going out to eat. We persevered through surgeries, births, growing children, work, and crazy schedules. Our children are grown and have their own children. They don’t live in Kearney. They as well as our close friends know the second of each month is special.
May 2nd we were looking forward to going out to eat in the evening. We anticipated a normal day. Keith is retired. I still write, but I am not working as I once did with scheduling, marking, promotions, etc.
Our wonderful young lady who works so hard to clean our house was already scheduled for the morning. Slowly we’re going through all the closets and what a task that is. I have to be present when we do that task to say “save, move, or throw.” I anticipated that. What I didn’t anticipate was the action on my call. A week or so earlier, a friend and handyman was doing some work in our house, when he looked and suggested we might have a ceiling leak and to call a roofer to check.
The week before had been busy so I didn’t call until the second—that day. Someone from the roofing company came not long after I called that morning. The quick response surprised me. Soon found out, that not only did we have a leak, but our roof also showed hail damage. I saw the pictures. That repair would get done, but first, the leak had to be stopped. The roofer got right on it.
Our day turned out much busier than planned. Yet we still enjoyed going out that evening even though eating at a restaurant can be a challenge, especially for me. It helps to park close to the door. And, with my numerous allergies, it also helps to have food to eat that I don’t react negatively to.
That evening the weather was clear with just a hint of chill. We were able to park right by the door. We didn’t have to wait, and we were shown to a booth only a few steps from the door. I was able to order milk with a scoop of ice cream and loaded mashed potatoes with bacon, cheese, and sour cream. No pepper (in lots of restaurants pepper is already added to the potatoes), no tomatoes, no gluten. I was good to go.
We relaxed and enjoyed our meal and our quiet time together. With my health issues throughout our marriage and Keith’s in the last years, along with other life issues, we have been through a lot. But through it all, we stuck together, fought, and talked things through, were and are blessed with a solid support system, and we’re each other’s best friend.
Most of all we prayed together knowing all things are possible when we listen to and follow the one who loves us best—Jesus. After all, Jesus is the source of love. We seek to live that out with each other—including forgiving and asking for forgiveness when we fail. We remember the good times and make new memories each month as we still celebrate that special day so many years ago when we said, “I do.” before friends, family, and God--and celebrate the second of every month.
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published column Kearney Hub 5/16/2024
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Have we forgotten the lessons & victims of WW2?
Auschwitz concentration camp
My father was a World War 2 veteran, and I listened to stories of all these men and women went through to protect America from evil, destructive philosophies and beliefs that are now, unfortunately, entrenched on our shores. They succeeded in liberating a whole race of victimized and brutalized persons.
Many Americans fought and many died to free and protect Jewish people from being eradicated as a race. Many Jews were tortured, starved, experimented on and murdered in horrific ways. America helped free Jewish persons and assisted as they returned to a land they’d lived in since Biblical times—Israel.
The Jews have been slaves in Egypt and later in Babylon, etc. They’ve lived under Roman rule and had to submit to other dictatorial regimes. But Jewish land has been their land time out of mind. It does not belong to anyone else, not Arabs or terrorists. Israel IS Palestine—whatever some try to claim.
Look at the map. Israel is a dot on a map surrounded by powerful countries whose citizens hate the Jewish people. Israel is a tiny parcel of land in the midst of huge, basically enemy, countries on all sides. Even worse, these countries, along with the UN, which mostly sides with the Arab countries, keep whittling away at the small parcel of ground Israel does have.
In WW 2 we protected and freed Jewish people from horrific conditions. Never again we said. Yet we have allowed our colleges and even our government to become bastions of hate-the-Jews rhetoric. We have taught our young people to hate anyone different, especially Christians and Jews.
Worse yet, this Administration has sent billions, yes billions, of dollars of our hard-earned money to terrorist groups as “humanitarian aid.” The terrorists use it to wage war on America and Israel. Where do you think the funds came from to attack Israel, an attack reminiscent of Nazis who attempted to wipe out this ancient race? Repeated rape. Forcing mothers to watch as Hamas sliced the heads off their babies, even shoving babies into ovens and turning them on. The acts of violence are too gruesome and graphic to even write about. And it hasn’t ended. Iran is directly waging war on Israel, pounding the country with explosives.
Further, the terrorists entrench themselves into schools and hospitals with no concern for their own people. They do so that when Israel defends itself by taking out these places from which Hamas reigns terror into Jewish houses and businesses, they can claim Jews deliberately kill the innocent.
Because Hamas and other terrorists hide behind civilians, Jewish soldiers have little choice if they are going to reach Hamas soldiers out to destroy their nation. (Not many living on the Gaza land are innocent. These people voted in the Hamas government, well-knowing who these terrorists were.)
Hamas and other terrorist groups pay families a pension when one of their members, even a child, murders a Jew by becoming a suicide bomber or in some other way. In school, too many Muslim children are taught to hate Jews. This is encouraged, not discouraged by the UN.
Violent terrorists are the very people many in the US and around the world are now supporting. Students and agitators are becoming more and more violent in their desire to destroy Jewish persons. Jews are no longer safe on many campuses or even on the streets of many cities.
We have not taught the last generation the truth about WW 2 or about concentration camps or that there really is evil. What is happening to the Jews today not only in Israel, but around the world and on college campuses, is anything but tolerance. It is unadulterated evil, and it touches our young people who’ve been taught lies and now support the very evil our fathers and mothers and grandparents conquered once upon a time.
It doesn’t help that our government seems more ready to support the evil perpetuated by Hamas than to protect the Jews on whom rockets are continually reigning down upon. Doesn’t help that most of the media reports are twisted to make out the Israelis fighting for their lives as the aggressors.
It is time we say no to even one more penny for the terrorists. It is time to stop forcing Israel, instead of the terrorists, to compromise just to get some lukewarm support from the current administration.
Time to support one of the few free countries in the world besides—if one can even say that anymore, America. Don’t be ignorant. Search for truth. Pray for the safety and protection of Jewish persons and support Israel. Pray we will return to a culture that protects the victims of terror, the preborn children, and the elderly, all of whom are under attack in our nation. Let us support life.
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
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Google: This country received the name of Palestine, from the Philistines, who dwelt on the sea coast: it was called Judea, from Judah: and is termed “the Holy Land”, being the country where Jesus Christ was born, preached his holy doctrines, confirmed them by miracles, and laid down his life for mankind.
https://time.com/5780130/saudi-arabia-hate-speech-schools/
https://unwatch.org/un-teachers-call-to-murder-jews-reveals-new-report/
Skates, bicycles, hoverboards—what’s next?
When we lived in Siren Wisconsin where I started school, summers were short and winters long, cold, and packed with snow, often starting in September.
From a very young age, kids learned to ice skate. My older sister Karin was several years ahead of me in elementary school and still had no ice skates. All she wanted for her September birthday was a pair of ice skates.
Yet our pastor father’s salary didn’t stretch much beyond necessities. But my father was resourceful. For her birthday Karin received her wish—a pair of white skates just her size. They were not new, but my mother had made them look new with polish, etc. Karin could now join her friends in what most all kids did in the winter—ice skating, along with sledding, of course. Perfect pastimes for long Wisconsin winters.
Back then summers brought the need for a type of transportation Karin also didn’t have, a bike. It wasn’t easy to hang out with friends or head to one of the lakes to swim without a bike. It was our main transportation as kids and teens.
She and I stared at shiny new bicycles through the store window. Karin so desired a bike. But again, our folks couldn’t afford a new bike. Instead, Dad went to the junkyard and scrounged for bicycle parts. From who-knows-how many old bikes, he took parts home, straightened, cleaned, and created a whole new bike which he and Mom painted and polished. Mom tied on a bow and Karin received her bike.
She could be like most young people of that era who used bicycles for transportation. I learned to ride on that large bike, after a lot of crashes because it was too big for me. I didn’t get a smaller version of Dad’s created bikes until after we moved to Wyoming.
A generation later our kids got bikes, but the new rage was inline skates. We were able to purchase off-brand ones for our kids, Chris and Cassie. Chris put them on and took off. Cassie not so much, though Chris tried to show her how to balance. Chris used those skates to go all over Kearney.
The Back to the Future movies were released as our kids were growing up. We all loved the series. Who didn’t want a hoverboard to get around? While they don’t zoom in the air, hoverboards now exist for a new generation of kids. They stay on the ground but can be used for fun or even transportation. It does take balance. Lots of balance.
A friend of our then 6-year-old granddaughter Ellery had a hoverboard. After getting the hang of it, of course, she wanted one for Christmas. (The kids already had bikes.) We talked about it. Mom Cassie said, “If she has one, her younger brother will also want one.” (He’s two years younger.) With a sigh, Cassie gave us permission to get the kids hoverboards for Christmas. This is this generation’s new fun play toy and more. We bought colorful hoverboards with fun lights that flashed as they moved.
To my amazement, it didn’t take long for Ellery and Zeke to get the hang of getting around, spinning, crashing, and almost dancing with the hoverboards. I’m glad we bought them, especially knowing the kids are closely supervised.
Ice skates, bikes, inline skates, hoverboards. Something new and different for each generation. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy watching the smiles of our grandkids’ faces as they zoom around on their hoverboards.
Now I understand why my folks went to so much time and trouble to make sure my sister got skates and a bike. Not only to be able to fit in with her friends but because the gratitude on the kid’s faces makes all the effort worthwhile. Nothing can beat the resulting smiles and thank-you hugs. (Months after receiving them, our grandkids still love their hoverboards.)
I wonder what our great-grandchildren will be asking for?
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published as Scheidies’ column in the Kearney Hub 4/20/2024
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Blizzards, storms, must be spring
A long, long time ago at least in the minds of our kids and grandkids, I attended what was then Kearney State College (KSC), now UNK. That was in the early 1970s. I received a comprehensive major in journalism. But getting that degree was not simple. I attended college before the American Disabilities Act (ADA) that set parameters for making places handicap accessible.
The college was certainly not accessible. The administration building had no elevator and other students carried my wheelchair up and down the long staircases when I had classes upstairs in that building. Once I was even left upstairs in the administration building at the end of a day after tests when everyone else had gone. (A friend came up the stairs to find someone, found me instead and got assistance to get me carried back downstairs.) This was the college that promised to make sure I got to my classes. (I have other stories and was very thankful for friends, even strangers who assisted me in getting to and from classes.)
Winter was the worst. Maintenance only scooped a path down the sidewalk for one to walk. Certainly not wide enough for even my small wheelchair. As for weather, back then, because most students lived on campus, KSC never closed down for rain, storms nor blizzards.
I was already at the college for classes when a blizzard hit. Visibility went to almost zero. Snow fell like a curtain and quickly covered lawns, walks, and roadways. My wheelchair was going no place. I was stuck at the Student Union. The storm was so bad, that students not living on campus were allowed to head home. Good luck! A friend offered to take me home. She probably had help getting me to her car. Driving meant inching along, trying to see even the roadway much less any other cars on the road. I prayed.
We never made it to my home. Hers was closer. Too dangerous to go further. Even her little dog refused to go out to take care of business. My friend was kind, even though she had to help me with some personal needs. I spent most of the day at her house until a break in the storm and the resumption of phone service brought my brother to pick me up and get me home.
Back then a blizzard meant lots of snow, high winds and next to no visibility. It meant not daring to go outside for fear of getting lost or freezing. This year meteorologists have called two blizzards recently. I don’t think either one was more than a bad storm, but certainly not a blizzard.
It is probably a good thing offices, schools and many businesses are closed down in bad weather. I just wonder if we’d become too willing to close things down when the weather isn’t to our liking. No one likes winter storms when most have been counting on spring and warm weather. But winter doesn’t like to let up and has manifested itself with real, serious blizzards clear into May.
Winter storms are a fact of life in Nebraska. Maybe we should be more willing to deal with such weather and not shut everything down until we are truly dealing with serious storms and an actual blizzard. I am not talking about exposing life and limb to dangerous weather conditions, but just maybe we should also not consider every snowfall dangerous or every storm a blizzard.
Whatever the terms used for Nebraska storms, they provide much needed moisture and for that we can give thanks.
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
Kearney Hub column 2024 April 11
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WHAT A PEN CAN DO?
While I live will I praise the LORD: I will sing praises unto my God while I have my being. Psalm 146:2
A pen
A simple instrument
An extension of the mind
May mine
Write words of
Comfort Faith,
and Hope.
Help me to recognize I’m not the only person who hurts and reach out to others in their time of need.
(C) 2016 Carolyn R Scheidies
From Journey of Faith
Family, friends and Covid
Getting sick isn’t fun. In February Keith ended up in ER with a nasty case of influenza A and was sent home with instructions and medications. His coughing was horrific. A few days later I ended up in the hospital with Covid. I needed pain meds and oxygen and was miserable.
Friends helped us, but we needed more assistance. Our son Chris and daughter Cassie left their families and jobs and came home to care for us. During that week, I learned how incredible the two we raised really were.
At home, even with my many limitations, my house is built to accommodate my situation. I also use appliances to assist in maintaining independence. But the very things that assist my independence are not allowed in the hospital. I felt very helpless.
That fed into a circumstance where I needed a way to be comfortable while dealing with the results of a medication. I discovered my son is a problem-solver. He worked through the problem so I could be comfortable dealing with the medication. (Though he visited, Chris spent his time caring for his dad Keith.)
My daughter stayed with me at the hospital. She’s a mental healthcare professional, but I really had no idea of her expertise until I had hallucinations. It was incredibly frightening. I went deep into a dark pit that sucked at my soul.
When they hit, I didn’t even recognize Cassie at first. I was stuck in this cycle and had no clue what to do. Cassie recognized the situation and went into counselor mode. I knew she worked with PSDT victims and soldiers. I had no idea how good she was at her job.
She dragged me out of that mental pit, got me stabilized, and worked further to keep me out. She impressed both the nurse in the room at the time and me. I hope I never end up in that place again. Covid and influenza took their toll on us. I was glad when allowed to return home where Keith and I continued to recover together—slowly.
I am thankful for friends who first got us to the doctor and ER and watched out for us. I am thankful for those who brought food, that isn’t simple with my many allergies, to tempt our tastebuds. I am thankful for the many who prayed for us.
Most of all, we were blessed to have our kids come to care for us, realizing just how safe we were in their hands. Chris is back to creating and maintaining computer systems and Cassie is back to counseling and their families, but I will always treasure the feeling I could let go and be safe.
God is indeed good.
https://harpers.org/archive/1958/09/the-coming-ice-age/
© 2024 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published as Kearney Hub Column 3/20/2024
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