Back Porch Break

Deeply Grateful

November 22, 2023 by Nancy 6 Comments

I grew up in a personal land of plenty. My sisters and I had a mom who tied the sashes on the back of our dresses, took us shopping for new school shoes and handed us a piece of crisp bacon folded in warm buttered toast as we went out the door to school. Our dad was a patriot to the bone. He loved the law and the Lord and always insisted on taking our photo near every American flag we saw when we went on vacation. We ate fresh tomatoes, green beans, corn and strawberries from our garden, and could hop on our horse and go for a ride on a whim. A land of plenty.

When I look back over all the blessings I’ve had in my life, they don’t stop with my childhood, but more and more I’m drawn back to when life seemed simpler, everyone was proud to be an American, truth was truth and evil was evil. These days it’s easy for me to look at all that’s happening in our culture, our country, and the world, and become discouraged. Although I’ll never stop trying to make a difference where I can, the injustices and depravities run so deep that I’ve shifted from being a passionate patriot to a curious observer—wondering why God is allowing all that He is and what He intends to do through it all. But I trust Him. And though my concerns run deep, my gratitude runs deeper.

By God’s grace, I’m coming into this Thanksgiving season grateful for the small, often overlooked blessings in my life as well as the big ones. One morning as I was reading Jeremiah 31:35—He who appoints the sun to shine by day…the Lord Almighty is his name—I glanced up to see a glorious sunrise. Our orange cat was snoozing on my lap, trusting me with her presence. Deeply grateful.

Every Tuesday morning I meet with a group of sage older women for devotions, and I always walk to my car afterwards enriched and encouraged by time spent with these dear ones. Deeply grateful.

Within our ever-growing family two little souls are in their mothers’ wombs preparing for their spring arrival into the world. Great-grands three and four for us. Deeply grateful.

The list goes on and on. Every person in our family. Caring friends. A warm home. Friendly neighbors. Church fellowship.

And at the top of the list, a husband who loves, protects and provides—my traveling companion this past year as we visited both Pearl Harbor and Omaha Beach honoring those whose sacrifices for our freedom are now too often forgotten. Deeply grateful.

Will you join me? Can you set aside your worries about the fate of our country and the world for at least a day and let your gratitude run deeper? Even if, as a popular praise song says, all we have to offer is a hallelujah, we must offer it. Praise God through whom all blessings flow! And have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Porch Pumpkins

October 26, 2023 by Nancy 8 Comments

As a child I wouldn’t have imagined growing or buying a pumpkin for any reason other than to turn it into a jack-o-lantern. How we’d look forward to cutting off the top and getting the squishy insides out so we could begin to carve a scary or happily grinning face, secure an old candle stub inside, and bask in the glow! Those pumpkins would sit on the front porch until they shriveled up and looked like toothless old men.

Who knew pumpkins would one day become sought after not for their ability to greet trick-or-treaters, but to add color and design to a front porch and to sit there, imagine this, uncarved? Yet this is what has happened. Now farmers grow pumpkins in white tones and shades of green to add to the perennial favorite, orange. Design-oriented homeowners, especially those blessed to have front porches with steps, mix these colorful gourds in with mums in shades of gold, white or magenta, hay bales and corn stalks to create gorgeous displays that announce fall is here.

If I’m blessed to go to the South during October I’m amazed by the extent to which people go to create these colorful autumn arrays. Not only do porches of homes have pumpkins stacked up to greet visitors with the warmth and hospitality of the season, but every shop and business gets into the spirit as well.

One year I went to a little town in northern Tennessee with my sister and brother-in-law. In Allardt, founded as a community of German immigrants, they annually hold the Great Pumpkin Festival and vendors sell pumpkin-designed everything! T-shirts, plaques, candles, lawn banners—all feature pumpkins welcoming visitors who come to see which farmer grew the largest pumpkin of the year. And the entries are huge. Each year the winning pumpkin weighs well over a ton! Because who doesn’t love a great pumpkin, Charlie Brown?

So whether you grow ‘em or buy ‘em, treat yourself to a plethora of pumpkins this fall. Create a front porch that delights all who drive by and welcomes all who visit with the very essence of the harvest season. Don’t have steps? No problem. Position a wooden ladder or upside-down bushel basket on your porch and stack pumpkins of all sizes and colors around and on it. Or create a pyramid of pumpkins up against the wall. And don’t forget to add some colorful mums or a cheerful scarecrow. Happy fall, y’all!

The Amazing Race

July 31, 2023 by Nancy 20 Comments

I’m barely getting off a blog post this month but I feel I owe it to you faithful readers to provide something! Since most of July was consumed with preparing for and recovering from a two-week trip to Europe that we were blessed to take for our 35^th Anniversary, I invite you to come away with me on what I’m calling “The Amazing Race,” the second week of our trip.

The first week was memorable too as we were on a Viking River Cruise from Paris to Normandy and back again. Seeing Paris, the stops in villages along the Seine including Monet’s gardens and home in Giverny, learning French history, the serenity of the swans along the shore, the fabulous food and flowing wine—we won’t forget any of it. It was a week of pampering, and so I’m calling week one the “Luxury Camp for Adults!” Of course the most memorable and somber day was when we visited Omaha Beach in Normandy and the American cemetery above the cliffs there. The magnitude of the courage and sacrifice displayed on June 6, 1944, may never be repeated. It was a privilege to walk that sacred ground.

But once all that was over we were off on a grand adventure jumping on and off trains in Switzerland and Northern Italy. That’s the week I’m calling “The Amazing Race!” I can’t say we did it all on our own because our AAA travel agent booked the trains and hotels and made sure we had all the passes and vouchers we needed, but it was up to us to make it happen.

Grateful that we had limited our luggage to two small bags plus carry-ons, we took the first train ride from Paris to Lausanne, Switzerland, the city where my great-great-grandmother Elise Porta married Edouard Bolli on July 1, 1836. Strolling along the shores of Lac Léman (aka Lake Geneva), I imagined her doing the same in much different attire. Perhaps a bustle and a parasol? We stayed in Chateau D’Ouchy, built in 1893 around a stone tower that was the only preserved part of a castle built in 1170 to serve as a home for bishops. I’m sure Elise also saw that tower. It was all very touching to me, and I’d love to spend two weeks there researching archives. The ham and cheese crepes we had for dinner at an outdoor cafe will go down as one of our most memorable meals.

Our schedule was such that we traveled around noon each day and so had a long afternoon, evening (the sun set about 10PM), and morning in each location. Yes, it was a quick visit in each place but the timing made it seem like we were there longer. So from Lausanne we hopped on a train to Interlaken. As the name implies the city is situated in the Alps between two clear, blue glacier lakes we marveled at from the train coming and going. Colorado readers will understand when I say the town was a lot like being in Vail, plus the lakes and the history of course. Paragliding is a huge sport there and as we rolled our luggage from the train station to the Krebs Hotel the sky was full of paragliders! Our dinner that night was a “typical” Swiss fondue as they say. We walked a few blocks to a charming restaurant with outdoor seating where our hostess told us the history of fondue. Apparently when herdsmen took their cattle up into the high country they took along bread and cheese to sustain them. But the cheese got moldy and the bread dried out, so they came up with the idea of heating up the cheese and dipping the bread into it! What’s in a traditional Swiss fondue today? Bread and potatoes. Our hostess added some peppers, pickles, and onions, but no meat dipped in oil or fruit dipped in chocolate. (Which is not to say we missed out on Swiss chocolate—au contraire!)

So much more to say about Interlaken, but pack up those bags, we’re moving on to Lucerne. The train ride from Interlaken to Lucerne took us up over the mountains past beautiful green, alpine meadows dotted with chalets and villages built around majestic, stone, steepled churches. How we were booked into the Hotel Schweizerhof we’ll never know, but it was beyond luxurious and has a history of hosting the likes of Winston Churchill and FDR. Right on the banks of Lake Lucerne, the town features an old covered bridge and so many dining and shopping opportunities. (Due to no luggage space we were limited to buying disposables—like chocolate!) We took a guided boat trip on the lake and learned a lot of Swiss history, even seeing the manor house on the shore in Tribschen where Richard Wagner lived from 1866 to 1872.

While there he worked on many compositions, including Seigfried Idyll, which was described as a birthday gift to his second wife, Cosima, and a love letter to the lake. We had more time here than anywhere and really enjoyed every bit of it. Our lakeside dinner wasn’t memorable but Chardonnay cucumber soup for lunch the next day was simply amazing.

Don’t get too comfortable in the lap of luxury in Lucerne, however! We’re off to Lake Como, Italy, hoping to catch a glimpse of George Clooney and his family. We didn’t, but sure saw a lot of the “beautiful people” there. It seems the young women are all thin and tan, wear white, and carry a designer dog under one arm—or peeking out of a designer bag! We arrived later here than in the other cities, however, and had to laugh when we walked into the room they’d saved for us at the Metropole and Suisse Hotel (compared to the room we left in Lucerne). It was walk-in closet sized, but did have a lake view as promised, and we began our evening there with a gorgeous sunset. Time for pizza and red wine at an outdoor café on the piazza—and did I mention gelato? (That was a staple wherever we went.)

The next morning we walked around the lake and enjoyed more piazzas—one of which features a huge statue of Alessandro Volta, the inventor of the electric battery. Taxis are rare in Como, so we walked a long way downhill pulling our bags over cobblestone streets when we arrived, and it took everyone on staff at our hotel to finally secure us a taxi back uphill to the train station. On to Milan! Did you forget anything?

Milan was our last stop before our early morning flight home the next day so we didn’t really see much of it. (What we did see on the pre-dawn trip to the airport was architecture similar to Paris.) That night we Googled the closest pizzeria to our hotel, the Crown Plaza, and stumbled into a delightful restaurant with a very entertaining proprietor, Matteo. When Jim asked if they had thin crust pizza he smiled and said, “This is not Pizza Hut.” We all had a good laugh and he kept the wine coming!

Just a word about language. In Lausanne they speak Swiss French. In the other cities we visited in Switzerland they speak Swiss German. I was surprised how much of my high school French and the German I learned living in Germany in the 70’s came back to me, so I gave it my best effort!

However, most of the people we encountered spoke at least some English, so they would smile and reply to me in English. (Jim thinks he’s mastered Italian by adding an O to the end of every word. It pretty much works!) As for currency, France and Italy use Euros, Switzerland has Swiss Francs.

If you’re still reading, thank you for taking “The Amazing Race” with us! What I loved most was being on a “team” with Jim, working together to catch each train and deciding how to spend our time in each location. It was affirmation that God knew what he was doing when he brought us together as a husband and wife team 35 years ago. We came home a little weary, but feeling so blessed and grateful.

The Pensive Pansy

June 19, 2023 by Nancy 13 Comments

Flowers have a language all their own. While I enjoy them all, it is the pansy that speaks to me most loudly and most soulfully. It’s said the pansy stands for thoughts. In fact the name comes from the French word penser, to think. So no wonder pansies inspire so many thoughts and memories.

We had an unusually rainy May in Colorado, but between showers I was able to plant a few pansy plants in the shade garden by our front door. I don’t know why the practice of calling someone “such a pansy” when he or she doesn’t rise to a challenge ever came to be, because pansies are resilient. Mine took the deluge of rain day after day bravely and now they are flourishing. When I travel to even slightly warmer climates in winter, I’m always amazed to see pansies thriving there. They persevere.

While they do so whimsically, pansies also reseed themselves. When we moved into our home I was delighted that our closest neighbor had planted pansies in the two tree rings in his front yard. Sadly he passed away a few years later. The first year he was gone I asked his widow if I could fill the tree rings with pansies in his memory. Of course she said yes. But pansies are edible, and rabbits know that all too well! As our rabbit population increased over the years, my neighbor and I decided we would go with marigolds instead. Still, some of the previously planted pansies poked up among the marigolds, making us both smile.

Maybe because they stand for thoughts, pansies have a way of connecting hearts. The pansy is the official flower of Delta Delta Delta, the sorority my mother, two sisters and I all joined in college. So my mom and I had a “pansy thing” between us, often giving one another gifts with a pansy design. A year after my sisters and I had convinced my mother it was time for her to move to assisted living, she asked to go to lunch with the three of us. “You were right to encourage me to make that decision and I’m sorry if I made it hard on you,” she said. Then she gave us each a gift—a beautiful porcelain pansy blossom.

I love all pansies, even the similar but smaller “Johnny Jump Ups” I nestle in to my French garden pots, but my husband knows my favorites are “pansies with faces.” So we stroll through all the nurseries near us until I find some. That’s because of the Legend of the Pansy. It’s said that pansies grew around the base of the cross the day Jesus was crucified, and that His blood dripped down on them, giving them their distinctive, face-like design. Yes, it’s a legend. But it’s one more reason to love pansies, to let them speak to us—even spiritually, and to think of them fondly.

Maybe it’s May

May 18, 2023 by Nancy 13 Comments

For those who may not know, we don’t really have a spring season in Colorado. As a friend of mine said, what we have is “winter wrestling with summer.” Eventually summer wins, but not without a struggle.

In March I begin to see Facebook posts from friends on the East Coast or in the South showcasing their crocuses, tulips and daffodils bursting with color. Soon the photos are of azaleas, dogwoods and redbuds in full bloom. Should I look up from their photos to gaze out my window, however, I’m more likely to see snow falling—not apple blossom petals, but real snow!

I try to be a good sport, and I’ve certainly been here long enough to know what to expect. The survival rules include not switching your closet over to lighter weight clothes too soon, or holding back a couple of turtleneck sweaters and some heavy jeans if you do. And never taking your coat to the cleaners. You’re just asking for a blizzard if you do that! So we wash the flannel sheets but put them back on the bed. We keep the snow boots in the front closet. We tell ourselves “we need the moisture.” And we wait.

Long ago my husband decided it was best to send me off to a location with real spring rather than to watch my stiff upper lip quivering for two months, and for that I’m grateful. This year my friend Kathy and I took a long road trip to Texas—emphasis on long. Wearily stepping out of the car in Waco, I immediately noticed the rejuvenating smell of green.

The next day we visited Magnolia Market. There and all over town the magnolia trees were in full bloom and the gardens were spectacular. After passing brown fields one after the other in Colorado and New Mexico, we were breathing in spring! Our next stop was to visit our friend Jimmie in Tyler, the rose capital of Texas. She took us to a wonderful rose garden, and we enjoyed seeing everything blooming in her yard and sat by her pool. All together it was the perfect cure for our winter blues.

Of course there are good things about our non-spring, too. If kids on spring break aren’t heading off to Florida or Arizona with their parents they may go skiing. Spring skiing is something to be experienced at least once in life. It’s not uncommon to see girls skiing in bikini tops or shirtless young men in shorts. This time of year at high altitude the sun is warm and the snow is slushy but cold. As skiers near the bottom of the slope the aroma of brats and hamburgers on an outdoor grill wafts up to meet them. Ahh! Not bad at all.

And the spring snow is pretty. During one April snowstorm this year a bright yellow goldfinch paid us a visit just to say, “Don’t worry. Warmer weather is on the way!” Already I see signs that summer may soon have winter on the mat. Our grass is finally starting to green up and the little crabapple tree in our front yard is in its God-given glory. Maybe it is May at last.

In the Garden

April 6, 2023 by Nancy 18 Comments

The hymn “In the Garden” has always been a favorite of mine. Whenever I choose it to close out a lesson from The Hope of Glory in an assisted living setting, it blesses the ladies there, too. Faces brighten, voices are raised, and we even come up with a bit of harmony. It’s a beautiful, touching hymn, but I had no idea of its origin.

Thanks to the book Amazing Grace, 366 Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions, I was able to learn the whole story, and I discovered an Easter morning context.

In 1912 when author and composer C. Austin Miles was asked by his publisher to come up with a hymn that would “bring hope to the hopeless,” he opened his Bible to one of his favorite passages in John 20—the account of Mary Magdalene encountering the risen Jesus at the tomb that first resurrection Sunday.

“As I read it that day, I seemed to be a part of the scene,” he writes. “I became a silent witness to the dramatic moment in Mary’s life when she knelt before her Lord and cried, ‘Rabboni!’ (which means Teacher).” (John 20:16) Divinely inspired, he set pen to paper and wrote the poem, “In the Garden.” That same night he wrote the music. Knowing this, I now look at the hymn with a deeper understanding of its meaning. Come to the garden with me as we explore the three stanzas and the familiar refrain.

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses; and the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.

What gardens in your memory call out to you still? More important, do you hear the Lord calling you to meet with Him in His garden in the early morning light? He’s available any time, day or night, but it’s so much easier to hear His voice before the activity and noise of the day obscure it. Mary ran to the tomb at daybreak. Surely I can make it out to my chair in our living room.

He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing; and the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing.

I can’t hear the birdsong outside with our house still closed up from the cold, but from my chair I delight in seeing the birds through the window. Annie, the little orange cat curled up on my lap, watches them with me. I read. I pray. And sometimes I hear His voice in reply. Earlier this week I was praying about what I should write for my Easter post. I heard three words in my spirit: in the garden. Ask and you may hear Him too. If not immediately, then perhaps some time during your day. Trust me. When He speaks, you will know.

I’d stay in the garden with Him tho the night around me be falling; but He bids me go—thru the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.

How Mary Magdalene must have longed to cling to her Savior by the garden tomb that morning and to abide with Him forever. But it wasn’t her time to dwell with Him in heaven. Instead, Jesus “bid her go” to the disciples and tell them He had risen just as He said. And so she ran to them exclaiming, “I have seen the Lord!” (John 20:18) This Easter, could He be asking those of us who know Him to do the same? To share with others the personal encounters we have had with Him? I believe so.

Now, this beloved refrain:

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

Were sweeter words ever penned? If you’ve yet to experience an intimate moment with the Savior, this Easter ask Him to meet you in the garden—the one He’s placed in your heart. He’ll show up. Will you?

Time to Spring Forward

March 8, 2023 by Nancy 11 Comments

Twice a year the discussion comes up about Daylight Saving Time and whether it’s time to do away with it. However, as of now it’s still in effect so most of us spring forward as requested. Sunday, March 12, is the designated day this year.

Newspapers, TV reporters and church bulletins all remind us to “spring forward” and set our clocks an hour ahead as we go into Daylight Saving Time, but you may wonder why we go to the trouble. If setting clocks, sleep disruptions or forgetting the change altogether and showing up at church an hour late seem like unnecessary irritations, consider these little known facts.

First proposed by Benjamin Franklin in 1784, Daylight Saving Time (the officially correct name, not Savings) is adopted in all states except Hawaii, parts of Indiana, and Arizona (except for the Navajo Indian Reservation, which does observe DST). Over the years studies have proven that we save thousands of barrels of oil per day during DST due to decreased use of electricity. More evening daylight also decreases traffic accidents and exposure to the types of crime usually committed after dark.

So although the counter arguments and debates continue, we have to admit there may be some real benefits besides those lazy, summer outdoor evenings we all look forward to enjoying.

Still, if Daylight Saving Time annoys you, think of other ways you might spring forward that you actually enjoy!

Maybe this year you’d like to spring forward down the sidewalk as you take up a new exercise routine. Once around the block is a good start, and by the end of summer you may find out you enjoy walking so much you’re going several miles.

Spring forward into a new hobby. Preferably one you’ve been thinking about for a long time but never made it a priority. Good advice with any new venture is to dip your toe in the water before diving in. Is your new hobby watercolor painting? Take a class at a local community center before investing in a lifetime supply of paints and canvases. You can always invest later once you know you love it.

Getting a start on gardening will help you spring forward toward summer. Even in colder climates seeds or bulbs can be started in windowsill containers and as the tiny shoots begin to grow our hopes for the warmer season to come grow with them. However you spring forward this year, don’t dismay about that lost hour. We get it back in the fall.

First published in The Country Register, March-April 2023.

Hope to Go

December 17, 2022 by Nancy 16 Comments

I was standing by the pickup counter at Panera Bread while the man behind the counter got the next order ready. “HOPE to go!” he shouted. A young woman named Hope stepped forward to claim her bagged food. As she walked past me I said, “Wow. We could all use some hope to go this time of year!” She smiled kindly at the weird older woman in the Christmas sweater and went merrily on her way. But an idea for a blog post was born.

Hope to go. Certainly hope goes with me every day of my life, but what does it mean to focus on hope at Christmas time? Doing so takes us back to the beginning of the story.

The prophet Isaiah planted seeds of hope in the hearts of the Israelites when he said as recorded in Isaiah 9:6 (KJV): For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Over 700 years before the Messiah entered the world, Isaiah’s prophecy gave the people hope to go.

At last, the time was near. When Joseph lifted the very pregnant Mary up on to the donkey for the long and arduous trip to Bethlehem, she needed hope to go, so hope went with her. Hope that what the angel revealed to her was true—that she really was carrying the Son of God in her womb. No doubt she also hoped for a smooth delivery, and that they would be able to find a safe place for the birth.

Did her hope temporarily wane as they were turned away by one innkeeper after another? Perhaps. But it came to fruition when one kind innkeeper offered a place in his stable. The babe was born as promised. As she cradled the newborn infant in her arms, she knew her hope had not been in vain. The bright star above them confirmed it. The appearance of the shepherds informed by angels confirmed it. Later the king-sized gifts brought by the wise men confirmed it. Her baby was the long-awaited Messiah.

When the jealous and hateful King Herod ordered all the baby boys under two years old to be killed, surely Mary hoped that Jesus would be spared. Warned by a dream, Joseph packed up his little family and they escaped. More hope to go.

What of us? As we journey toward Christmas we have temporal hope that families will travel safely, that promised gifts will be delivered on time or family conflicts will be resolved. But our hope to go is also eternal hope, an anchor for the soul (Hebrews 6:19).

The familiar Christmas carol O Holy Night! includes the line, “A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” In a world that can feel so extremely hopeless, let’s be thrilled by the eternal hope we have in Jesus. That’s hope to go.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

‘Tis the Tweason!

November 28, 2022 by Nancy 4 Comments

Here we are in the in between. Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is still a few weeks away. So how are we to spend this tweason if you’ll indulge my coining of that word? How can we hold on to the best of the last holiday while eagerly anticipating the next?

Holding on to the gratitude we felt at Thanksgiving is certainly a start. Sure, we are to be grateful at all times. But gratitude is more top of heart when everything we read or ponder has a thankfulness theme. I Thessalonians 5:18 encourages us to give thanks in all circumstances. Not necessarily for all circumstances but finding something to be thankful for in the midst of our situation no matter what it is. Perhaps writing with this verse in mind, Sarah Young wrote in the November 28 entry in Jesus Listens: “I give You thanks, regardless of my feelings, and You give me Joy, regardless of my circumstances.”

So give thanks. When we are able to purchase a gift for everyone on our Christmas lists, let’s give thanks for the resources that make those purchases possible. If a harried shopper cuts us off in traffic or takes the parking spot we were aiming for, let’s give thanks we aren’t going home with a dented fender. Give thanks.

I love that Sarah Young reminds us of the promise of joy because that’s something else that spans the seasons. As we move into the first week of Advent, the time we anticipate celebrating the coming of Christ to the world, we begin a four-week journey that helps us focus on hope, love, joy and peace. All four should fill our hearts and minds during this tweason, but joy can be a part of every week, every celebration, and every memory. I have four friends who have lost their soulmates, their life partners, their husbands this past year. In the midst of their grief, may the memories they have bring joy. Or so I earnestly pray.

Before we know it this tweason will have passed away and it will be Christmas! Christmas, a time for remembering that out of His great love for us God sent His son to dwell among us. Emmanuel. God with us. May the anticipation we feel now be centered more on Him and less on the harried hustle and bustle to come. During this in between time, let’s set our hearts on the true meaning of Christmas and let the rest be just the colorful trappings of the holiday.

So Happy Thanksgiving, Joyous Tweason, and Merry Christmas! God bless us one and all.

October Surprise?

October 24, 2022 by Nancy 21 Comments

News outlets have been speculating about the October surprise for weeks now. I suppose that traditionally politicians and parties save up their most damning information against their opponents for the weeks before an election in order to sway the vote in their favor. Releasing this too soon and people will forget. Release it too late and many will have already made up their minds or voted early. Thus, the October surprise.

So I waited. But unless it happens soon I don’t think we’ll have such an October surprise this year from any side. Candidates spending millions to create ads criticizing their opponents without regard to facts? No surprise. Billionaires pouring millions into races in states in which they have no vested interest other than pushing their personal agendas and causes? No surprise. Suppression of news by cable and social media providers? No surprise. Time-released attacks on influential individuals? No surprise.

Yet I was surprised in other ways this October. On my way home one day I decided to take a shortcut through the neighborhood just down the street from mine. I turned the corner to be overcome by sunlight illuminating the most beautiful row of red maples I’d ever seen. So spectacular was this October afternoon sight that I coerced my husband into going back with me a few days later so I could get a photo before the leaves fell. Still a wow.

Watering my small front gardens one morning, my watering pot and my gaze both pointing down, I saw a bit of pink out of the corner of my eye. Looking more closely I realized it was a rosebud. Then I saw more rosebuds. It was October, yet my rose bush was optimistically planning to bloom again—and within a week it did! What a lovely surprise.

My spirit was surprised this month too. My pastor recommended a book by author Brant Hansen titled Unoffendable. So strongly did he recommend it that he developed a whole sermon series based on it. Hmmph, I thought. What if I want to be offended? After all, there are so many things in the world right now that I find offensive! Don’t I deserve to be offended? To be hurt and angry even? Hmmph. Then I read the book. Chapter by chapter I felt a shift in my spirit. A shift from blame to forgiveness, from discouragement to hope, from anxiety to peace, from anger to love. I hope this October surprise outlives the month.

And so we trust. We pray. We vote. Will we be surprised in bad ways as well as good? No doubt. But through it all we lean on the One who is never surprised by anything. You remember singing about Him, don’t you? He has the whole world in His hands.