Linda Roorda

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. This poem and reflection were written in 2014 when I had cancer and pondered the various aspects of my diagnosis. I urge you not to neglect your own self-screening and medical exams… because, if it wasn’t for Ed’s insistence that I take care of myself, I planned to cancel that mammogram… because he was in the midst of several new health crises with procedures and surgery. I just didn’t think I had time in my hectic schedule of working full time and running nearly every afternoon for Ed’s appointments to go for an annual mammogram... Yet, it was that exam which found my cancer… so I share a few thoughts from those days… The artist fills her palette with dabs of paint from among the dark and drab to the bright and colorful. I well remember laying out my paints years ago. I love the smell of the oils, mixing to find just the right shades… then gently brushing color onto the white surface, adding accents along the way, bringing the flat blank canvas to life. Come to think of it though, I haven’t picked up a brush since our youngest was a toddler, decades ago. Unless you count painting house walls and doors! But I also remember how hesitant I was to make those first few brush strokes… fearing mistakes which would ruin the whole composition. Not that my work was ever that good. I simply enjoyed losing myself for hours in creating art… forgetting time, food, and sound. My heart was totally involved in a world of joy of my own making. And I can’t help but wonder how much pleasure our God, as Master Artist, must have enjoyed as He created this world for us to enjoy? Our life’s palette is filled with so much good, so many blessings… the bright colors. But we often don’t like to think about, nor do we welcome, the dark and drab… those difficulties which confront us, and just might ruin our day, or a long string of days. I suspect I’m not alone with a tendency to take life, my family and friends, my surroundings… my blessings… just a little bit for granted. Those were among the thoughts rambling around my mind when this poem was written in 2014, my summer of breast cancer, procedures and surgery. It was a time we were dealing with Ed’s new diagnoses added to multiple others, nearly losing him to a severe bout of pancreatitis (he did not drink alcohol), with his own near-daily appointments, procedures, and surgery, seeking time and space for us as a couple to handle the weight of our concerns… My thoughts since those days have come to echo a book given to me by my daughter, Emily. The author, Ann Voskamp, of “One Thousand Gifts” wrote on pg.90: “Who would ever know the greater graces of comfort and perseverance, mercy and forgiveness, patience and courage, if no shadows fell over a life?” A few pages later (p.97), she pens, “And emptiness itself can birth the fullness of grace because in the emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God, the only begetter of grace, and there find all the fullness of joy.” The scare which a cancer diagnosis brings can haunt you to the core… for it’s then you come face to face with the brevity of life in a world that continues to hum around you… when more often than not life would whiz on by without a second glance. This poem began as I sat on our deck, taking in the sun’s rays, observing a gorgeous tiny hummingbird swooping in to drink from their favored nectar. This little bird reminded me how much more thankful I was for every second of life… every waking moment… every minute blessing… as I paid closer attention to nature’s beauty around me… For here, surrounding me, but taken for granted, were blessings of joy found in the simplest pleasures… like the voice of God speaking in those moments of solitude and quiet as birds sang melodies of praise … as dawn emerged to overtake the darkness with its brilliance… and as something so tiny and delicate as a hummingbird echoed its Creator’s joy in the art of creation. And with those thoughts came the realization that all of life brings a joy to my soul… whether the dark and drab or the bright and colorful. Each and every experience is a chance to slow down, to welcome the new day, to appreciate what God has allowed me, and you, to journey through… by finding we’re in the midst of His palette of life, His will, and all that He has planned for us to experience and learn from as we draw closer to Him and His great love. The Palette of Life Linda A. Roorda ~ There’s joy in my soul as the sun warms bright And colors of dawn announce a new day Birds stir in nests while I stretch and yawn With thankful heart as dawn awakens. ~ Solitude I seek, Your voice I would hear In the early morn, the cool of the day As light emerges from its slumber dark Bathing our world in brilliant display. ~ So I sit still and listen closely As birds arise to greet a new sun With songs on the wing to gladden the heart, No better way to start a new day. ~ Throughout the hours I hear their chorus Songs from the heart lifting praise with mine As sounds of life between these spruce walls Gently beckon to slow my fast pace. ~ Hummingbirds feed, their wings beating fast With a gentle buzz as they zoom on by Tiny and frail, delicate beauty Feathers glisten in their brilliant hues. ~ Sun shining bright in an azure sky A gentle breeze as leaves flutter slow Shades of all colors in plants surrounding Endless beauty, the blessings of life. ~ These are the things that give joy to life Though they be small, with them the heart sings From morning sunrise to evening sunset Treasures are found wherever we gaze. ~ And may all I do bring honor and praise To creator God whose gifts are bestowed Amid life’s frailty like colors bursting forth With joy in my soul, the palette of life. ~~ Linda Roorda writes from her home in Spencer.

Sitting in my East Garden a while ago, I absorbed the warm sunny rays while viewing the garden’s fading beauty, enjoying the colorful zinnias now more beautiful with recent cooler days and refreshing rain, gazing out beyond the garden proper to encompass the yard, our house, and the road beyond… listening to the golfers’ chatter and excited shouts of joy... spying birds flutter among the hidden branches above, hearing their gentle twitters – tuhweet, tuhweet… watching a gentle breeze stir the branches and leaves above me and beyond… remembering the many years that have passed us by, 40 to be exact, since we moved into our new house… thinking of all the good times and the difficult days that entered our lives… and so very thankful for the blessings of home and family. Like the tiny seed in my poem that was once upon a day planted with so much hope held within the task, to the joy it brings on seeing and touching the beauty in full array as it reaches its zenith… so it has been in our lives. Among blessings more than we take the time to count, our precious little ones have grown up from being nestled in our arms, absorbing our love and attention, building the foundation on which to stand while testing their wings, flying all too soon out into the great big world to find their own way… And that growth, that wisdom, which they eagerly absorbed into their hearts and minds, came into their lives as we parents tried to follow the wisdom from our creator, our Lord God above. “Train up a child in the way he should go, And even when he is old he will not depart from it.” (Proverbs 22:6) It is He who has established and numbered our days. “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Proverbs 139:13-16) It is God who has blessed us with our many talents and wisdom. James, the brother of Jesus, describes such wisdom from God as, "the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere." (James 3:17) It is the same God who guides us as we seek our way along this life’s journey... though sometimes we take the reins until we recognize God’s greater wisdom is really the wiser portion, for “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105) Our pathway might be smooth or it may be rocky, strewn with one obstruction or hurdle after another… all part of what matures and teaches us, giving us a deeper understanding of life, empathy and insight to support others facing a similar storm… as we turn for peace and comfort in God lest we become arrogant, thinking we alone know best. King Solomon reminded us so long ago to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5, 6 NIV) Or, as the King James Version says, …”and He shall direct thy paths.” But we so easily forget and take charge of those reins… only to realize later that we need to return to the true source of wisdom once again. Though Solomon wrote down his profoundly wise words centuries ago, granted to him by God through prayer on becoming king when his father died, he encourages us in our walk of life today. “The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel: for gaining wisdom and instruction; for understanding words of insight; for receiving instruction in prudent behavior, doing what is right and just and fair; for giving prudence to those who are simple, knowledge and discretion to the young -- let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance -- for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction. (Proverbs 1:1-7) And thus we see how blessed we’ve been when looking back…acknowledging how God has led us all the days of our lives… guiding us when we didn’t even realize it… using the difficulties to teach us wisdom for the future… making our paths straight for His purpose… What an awesome God we serve!! Once Upon A Day by Linda A. Roorda Once upon a day a seed was planted Just a tiny seed, held gently in hand The soil was tilled and the seed tucked in Patiently waiting its growth to begin. ~ As the rains commenced and the sun shone warm The seed emerged from protective shell, And with firm foundation of sturdy roots Its tender leaves burst into the light. ~ While storms blew fierce it held on firm Tightly gripping its feet in the soil Its tender stem and each tiny leaf Were gently swaying, dancing to the tune. ~ Despite the tempest our plant stood tall It weathered the storm for its roots went deep Our plant knew its purpose, the unswerving truth And humbly displayed character unbent. ~ And so with us as we arrive at birth Helpless and feeble, but eager to grow Nourished in love with foundation deep We mature to face the storms of life. ~ Though we might break without firm support And may wander down destruction’s lane Yet often it’s from our mistakes that we learn The wisdom of God planted deep in our soul. ~~ Linda Roorda writes from her home in Spencer.

We often find peace in a quiet place of rest whether it be our church Sanctuary or outdoors in nature. There, alone, unencumbered by life’s trappings, we can meditate on and seek our Lord in prayer. Away from the hustle and bustle of life’s busyness and grueling schedules, we can focus our thoughts and attention as we pray for God’s wisdom and for blessings upon our family and friends. Because we are so like those sheep that David settled down to rest in peaceful green pastures, we can meet our Shepherd there for His guidance and restoration. With a simple prayer in such peaceful solitude, I’m reminded of how often Jesus sought a quiet place to pray. Away from the noisy crowds, He met His heavenly Father alone to pour out His heart. Asking for His simple needs to be met, He also prayed that those with heavy burdens would find peace by relinquishing their cares to the very capable hands of God. From the beginning of his ministry, Jesus sought a quiet place to get away from life’s busy pace and demands, to think and pray to His heavenly Father. Like Mark 1:35 tells us, “very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” Shortly afterward, his disciples found him; together they went off into the synagogues and villages to preach and serve the needs of the people. “Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:15-16) Another time, after sending his disciples ahead to the next town by boat, and dismissing the crowd of people, “…he went up on a mountainside to pray.” (Mark 6:46b) If quiet time was needed by our Lord to pray and restore his energy… to refresh his soul during hectic days of ministry… how much more do we need that time alone? I know I tend to forget that, often uttering prayers-on-the-run so to speak. Jesus went off by himself to grieve when His cousin, John the Baptist, was beheaded. He spent time alone to contemplate important issues in His ministry. And He prayed for hours when facing his arrest and death on the cross. All fitting examples for situations we face that are both simple and complex. There is a peace I find in my quiet place… sitting in my gardens among nature’s blessings of flowers and birds… listening to the sweet chirping of busy birds, watching dainty butterflies flutter by, and watching the creek below our ridge on its endless flow… for in the midst of His creation, I feel God’s presence. How appropriate that our risen Lord was found in a garden that first Easter morning! To my garden I often go to pray, think a situation through, and hear the Lord’s wisdom in His still small voice within my heart. In my garden, a respite from life’s hectic pace, I find a peaceful solitude, and come away feeling refreshed and restored. How about you? A Peaceful Solitude Linda A. Roorda There is a place where I long to rest A place of quiet and contemplative peace A placid harbor, restoring my soul Where the Lord I meet in solitude still. ~ A place of rest my cares to release Where storms of life meet the Calmer of Waves With prayers of faith and trust in His will As I’m safely held in the palm of His hand. ~ For soothing comfort and solace is found Near to the heart of our gracious Lord Feeling His presence all along the way As He takes my fears to comfort with peace. ~~

With school either having started for some, or about to start for others, I pondered the realization that there was so much I thought I knew when younger, but really didn’t… for education isn’t only that which is gained in a classroom. Over the years, I’ve learned I can’t turn the clock back to undo or redo what’s been done. Life doesn’t have a rewind button for our editing... so we inevitably move forward in a relentless flow of time. And in that flow, learning becomes an emotional and spiritual educational process as disappointments and suffering soften our hearts amidst the joys. This is how we mature and become wiser. In the process, we learn that we may not get that second chance. Make amends now… apologize, forgive and move forward. Love one another… and let the other know it. I have searched for and regained friends from years ago… friends I’d lost when moving away, friends lost when my childish words took their toll, and to whom I’ve given heart-felt apologies. I cannot undo, but I can atone for and correct my wrongs. Walk away from sin… don’t let it overtake you with its tempting appeal. The great Ten Commandments really do have something to say to us today. Stop blaming someone else. Don’t condone or excuse the habit of lying, concealing your wrongs to protect yourself. Even if no one else is the wiser, God knows. Own it, confess it, and make amends. Others do take notice of what we do… do it well, for a good name is much to be treasured. Love, listen, take advice gladly, and learn… you won’t go wrong. “Be very careful, then, how you live… making the most of every opportunity…” (Ephesians 4:15-16) As we look back, we often wish we knew then what we know now. Wouldn’t such knowledge have saved us a whole basket of trouble?! But did we hear, did we listen, did we truly heed the advice given as we grew up? I’m afraid I didn’t always do so. I thought I “knew it all” in my teens. It took time as life traversed a variety of circumstances unique to my needs to gain understanding and knowledge with wisdom from God. And from the realization of my own errant ways and words, I apologized and made amends… because the Lord has done so much more for me. For the loving Father that He is, God took the time to teach me all through the years. Because I was often not listening to wiser words in my youth, I now treasure the wisdom of others as I sit at their feet to learn, recalling fragmented words of wisdom expressed years ago. Blessed with Godly wisdom, Solomon wrote in Proverbs 2:1-6: “My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding, and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.” And vs. 9 adds, “Then you will understand what is right and just and fair – every good path.” Oh, how true! If only… that age-old phrase we all quote... if only I knew then what I know now. So, let me take what the Lord has taught me through the difficult struggles to reach a satisfied contentment… through tears of deep sorrow to tears of great joy with laughter’s healing touch. And may we use the blessings He’s bestowed upon our hearts to reach out in love with something we’ve learned… Something I’ve Learned by Linda A. Roorda ~ Something I’ve learned since I was young… If I knew then what I do know now I’d have been spared life’s toughest lessons. But, then again, how else would I learn? ~ Something I’ve learned came slowly with time… For I wanted life to move fast forward And in wanting more, I just needed less As contentment dwells in life’s simplest gifts. ~ Something I’ve learned by looking backward… That in facing life I thought I knew all, But looking forward from slow motion days Impatience revealed an unsettled heart. ~ Something I’ve learned wishing I’d discerned… By heeding then the sage’s wisdom Who’d lived and seen what I could not fathom For experience marks the role of teacher. ~ Something I’ve learned is not easy to say… That which I rue when youth went its way As lessons learned brought maturity’s wealth With understanding through wisdom’s trained eye. ~ Something I’ve learned by climbing the hill… Conquering hurdles that hindered my path, For stones that seemed like unmoving boulders, Were mere stumbling blocks to peace found in You. ~ Something I’ve learned I treasure now more… My faith in You, Lord, once taken for granted Its value gained from bumps in the road Which led me to where I stand on Your Word. ~ Something I’ve learned we all have to face… Sorrow and loss have taught to accept That which was healed as my heart grew wise For only from pain can compassion speak. ~ Something I’ve learned about all my stuff… I can’t take it there on the day that I leave Much better by far to share with you now Showing my love in tangible ways. ~ Something I’ve learned that when the door shuts… Reasons there are for not looking back. Express regret for what’s done is done Then welcome the door He flings open wide. ~ Something I’ve learned with You at my side… To share the bounty of blessings divine To gently speak with a tender voice And to hear with love from a generous heart. ~~

I absolutely applaud this column! I love his respect for and promotion of proper values and manners! Too often it's missing today. Tho some things he mentioned are antiquated, I feel so respected when a guy opens a door for me, and stands aside to let me walk thru first, something I do for others too - it works both ways. But I don't need to have him get up every time I get up or return to said dinner table.

Recently, I’ve seen several memes quoting, “History is not there for you to like or dislike; it is there for you to learn from it. And if it offends you, even better, because then you are less likely to repeat it. History is not yours to erase or destroy. Teach that to your children.” In an editorial, Dianna Greenwood penned, “that doesn’t mean we tear the monument down or run around crying about how it victimizes us. Instead use them as teaching tools, to tell the current and next generations about a time in history we do not want to return to.” It means teaching our history, the good and the bad. As the author of “1984” and “Animal House”, George Orwell affirmed “The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.” Yet we mock, delegitimize or destroy aspects of history. We want our way despite what others may think. It’s been said to me, “please tell me you’re not going to vote for _____.” The old give-and-take attitude seems to be lacking... all too evident among those who mock or belittle, especially within today’s world of politics… where a war of words continues to erupt, and people are canceled. It seems absolute truth and moral or ethical standards have become a negative, a cause for ridicule or derision… while relativism, or determining our own truth as we want it to be, is more often revered. Authors like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Mark Twain/Samuel Clemens (and even Dr. Seuss) have become suspect, apparently not worth our reading in today’s political correctness. They, like so many others, wrote about the way life was as they experienced it while walking upon this earth, something we can learn from. The Wilder Award in literature has been renamed the Children’s Literature Legacy Award because Wilder used words from a different era, inappropriate for today. We were appalled at censorship, banning and burning of books many years ago, but even now we walk a fine line of what is appropriate. Rather than using it as a learning experience, we disallow our children to read of life in other times when words or language we now recognize as inappropriate were used. Even our Holy Bible is often considered unacceptable because it might offend… despite its containing the best standards to live our life by. As discerning parents, we did not allow our children to read a few specific books in high school with blatant promiscuous sex and distortion of family values. We discussed why the books were inappropriate reading material with our children and school staff. We were told by the principal that, because we calmly explained our objections, the school graciously saw our valid points and gave alternative reading material. In Jenn’s case, after giving one particular oral book report, a few classmates told her they wished they’d read that book instead of the original proffered book. A true story, her book showed a quality of character in the challenges a young man faced as an Olympian runner diagnosed with cancer. Unable to compete, he turned to helping inner city under-privileged kids. A great life example! The book read by the rest of the class, however, was filled with gratuitous sex, filthy language, and mocking of parental/family values – found when I simply opened the book at random junctures. In actuality, the teacher told his students to seek their parents’ permission to read that book. Apparently, if other students showed it to their parents like Jenn, we were the only ones who said, “no way!” Even the school board was shocked to learn what that book held. It was pulled from the school’s required reading list, and the teacher complimented us on our stance, saying he learned a lot from us. There truly is a time for discernment of right and wrong when done with respect. I was later told by a parent how much she agreed with and respected me for doing this, but was hesitant to take the public stand I had. I understand. My poem below began to flow with news of the violence and destruction of our nation’s historical monuments in the summer of 2017 and since. Removing such historical memorials does not erase or change history… except for the younger generations who never learn its truths. There are lessons learned in those memories earned. We’ve come so far. We’ve grown in understanding and acceptance. We are not perfect as individuals or as a nation, but isn’t that cause for celebration rather than erasure? Our differences can be teachable moments. That’s what Freedom of Speech is all about… a chance to show love and respect even in expressing disagreement, revealing true tolerance, not denigrating or canceling someone just because you don’t like their stance or voting intention. Tolerance, by definition, is an ability to be fair, to accept a viewpoint which is different, and to realize that the opposition also has rights… without approving wrong by our silence or going into full rage when disagreeing with the alternative view. Perhaps we remember that society’s Golden Rule (which promotes tolerance when you think about it), actually comes from the words of Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount: “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the law…” (Matthew 7:12a) Nor is tolerance a license to do anything we want at will. A moral society adheres to absolute truths of right and wrong, or it breaks down without this solid foundation… as we see with preferential treatment of criminals being put back out on the street where they too often commit more crimes… because they were not held responsible and accountable for their prior criminal acts. We can be cognizant and tolerant of others’ opinions or beliefs, respecting our differences… but that does not mean we tolerate rude or foul language, or abusive, bullying, or violent and criminal behavior. Tolerance is not freedom to persist in traveling down a wrong path. There are consequences for everything we do... and there is a time and place for speaking out respectfully against what we disagree with, or against inappropriate words or actions. So where did tolerance go? Too often it seems tolerance is relegated to that which accepts and promotes a particular politically-correct agenda to the exclusion and canceling of the opposing view and person… not appreciating a respectful explanation… putting others into that so-called “basket of deplorables.” What happened to our ability to show respect through appropriate discussion and explanation of one’s viewpoint? What happened to Freedom of Speech? Why the hate-filled, foul-worded, and/or disparaging language? Why violence with riots and destruction, or angry rhetoric to disallow conservative or religious speakers, even on college campuses where all perspectives are supposed to be welcomed? What is there to be afraid of… that others might actually have valid points of truth, different from your own perspective and agenda, promoting a deeper thought process? Fear of a differing opinion by engaging in anger and wrath toward that with which one disagrees serves no viable purpose. We have heard mobs calling for their rights or else violence will ensue… while proclaiming how tolerant and justified they are! Seems to me that violence as a coercive bully tactic is anything but tolerance. Perhaps it would be wise to observe that true tolerance… the courtesy to listen, agreeing to disagree in appropriate discourse… comes by respecting another’s viewpoint, their freedom of speech, without the backlash of vitriolic speech and/or destructive violence. When morality and true tolerance steps up and extends a hand in respect, we’re living out the ancient Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:1-17). Given by God to Moses for the Jewish nation during its exodus from centuries of Egyptian slavery, these words still serve us well as a moral foundation for life even in today’s modern society. Doing our best to live out Jesus’ words, we show great love and respect for others… “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you…” (Matthew 7:12 NIV) – just as we wish to be treated. With this love, and acceptance of those with whom we disagree, we embody Christ’s love, for “love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.” (I Corinthians 13:6 NIV) Tolerance by Linda A. Roorda Could I but live a life that was safe I wouldn’t question differences encountered. I would not wrestle with problems I face Or troubles inherent with consequent strife. ~ For if I the bad from this life expunged I’d then have left the best for display. My life would exist by my design For my benefit and pleasure alone. ~ Remove the memories and mask the failures Fashion the remains to what I deem fit. Let visible be selfish ambition My life according to myself and me. ~ I have no tolerance for views but mine My way is right and suspect is yours. I demand my way and fight you I will If only to prove entitled am I. ~ Yet what I now see is your hand held out Bearing a gift, tolerance by name. You’ve come to my aid and lift me up To help me stand with dignity tall. ~ There’s a price, you see, for this freedom shared It’s a cost in red that flowed for us all. And it grants relief from oppression’s fist That your words and mine comingle in peace. ~~

Even those of us blessed to grow up in a church may go through a time of searching, especially in our younger days. We search for fun, happiness, joy, peace and love in many places and in many ways… and sometimes we search in vain… for what we don’t know. Been there… done that, right?! But did you know that our hearts are born to seek? All the while we grow up and mature, we’re seeking and learning, trying to find our place and priorities in this great big world. We wonder if our life makes a difference. Does anyone care? What is our value, and how is it measured? To prove our worth, we may seek wealth, fame, praise, prestige, power… and often think we’ve found it in relationships and possessions. In reality, our search for true peace and joy has nothing to do with these things. That’s where the world finds its value. So, we carry on, as our hearts continually seek something better to fill the void in our soul. In reality, we’re “lookin’ for love in all the wrong places” as the song says. (“Looking for love” sung by Johnny Lee, written by Wanda Mallette, Patti Ryan and Bob Morrison; 1980 movie “Urban Cowboy.”) And we keep searching until we realize the something that’s missing is ultimately only found in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:33) For God created us and put within our hearts a longing for Him… because, as our creator, He desires to have a close relationship with us. He wants us to give up our futile searching. He wants us to give up the world’s false security, our pride, and our faith in all the petty trinkets which hold no eternal value… to gain something far more valuable when we put Him first in our lives. As we search for God and focus on Him and His love for us, we find that the Apostle Paul’s words “…I no longer live, but Christ lives in me,” say it all. (Galatians 2:20) For as we seek His will in our lives, we discover that our purpose, our joy and our peace, can come only from God. Like C. S. Lewis wrote in “The Problem of Pain” … “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.” In seeking and finding our Lord, it’s then that the void in our heart and soul is filled… with a peace that only God can give. Our eyes are opened and we see the Lord’s loving hand working through us as we become more like Him… especially, it seems, through the toughest of times. For so often, that’s when our faith grows deeper as we draw closer to our Lord, and rest in His comforting words of wisdom… and His loving embrace. After teaching His disciples to pray, Jesus said, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Luke 11:9) As I searched… I found. I Searched By Linda A. Roorda In vain I searched the corners of life As my heart yearned for what it did not know But might it be the world cannot give The depth of peace as You hold my soul. ~ In pleasures I searched for the hint of fun The best this world could ever offer But disillusioned it caught me up short When softly I heard Your voice fill the void. ~ In hope I searched for one to carry For I had fallen from heights I had claimed Then helped was I by a tender soul One filled with grace from mercy’s blessed store. ~ In silence I searched away from life’s noise Seeking Your voice in solitude’s calm Within my prayers Your words then echoed As You called to me in a still small voice. ~ In forest I searched midst towering trees For there was I enveloped by peace And as the sun broke through the dark depths It mirrored the Son whose light pierced my soul. ~ In valleys I searched along gentle streams Till gazing upward to towering peaks Majestic splendor was captured in view Of stunning vistas, creation’s glory. ~ In faces I searched Your image to find Those with a heart of compassion true The humble and meek without prideful boast Till one in tatters lent a hand to me. ~ In faith I searched for the living truth Of One whose claims have captured my heart For my soul was cleansed when You took my place Lifting me up to heights of Your love. ~ In children I searched for innocence sweet The gift of love not lost in their eyes Like arms open wide are their hearts and souls Freely they give without asking more. ~ In love I searched for the best in You Someone to hold and treasure for life To carry my dreams on the wings of time As ever I cling to faith, hope and love. ~ With joy I found all this and more As my heart sang out its praises of You For is it not true that blessings are mine From the depth of peace as You hold my soul. ~~

With the Union Pacific's Big Boy 4014 making a run this summer/fall, I'm sharing my blog from several years ago. I fell in love with that train, and referenced it when I researched and wrote this blog on the old steam locomotives with input from my Dad a few months before he passed away. He grew up next to the railroad tracks in Clifton NJ and had a life-long love of those old trains, passing that love on to me. The Big Boy's agenda for this fall can be found in this recent news release: 1.2 million-pound steam locomotive 'Big Boy' Heartland of America Tour Kansas stops released. Who among us isn’t fascinated by the steam trains of yesteryear? As the big locomotives and cars rumble past, you can’t help but wonder where they’ve been and where they’re headed. To feel the pulsing ground vibrations of an old steam engine as it chuffs down the track, to see huge billows of smoke and steam with cinders and ash in the air, to smell the smoke and oil, and hear the blowing of the whistle and clanging of the bell all make one's heart beat just a little faster! The train’s a’comin’! Constructing model trains was a hobby of my dad’s, along with setting up a track and miniature town for display. I remember watching him when I was in kindergarten as he built a passenger car with its tiny pieces. In the mid to late 1960s, I also enjoyed it when he took us kids on the annual drive to a small, non-descript building in Carlstadt, New Jersey. There, our eyes were opened to a whole ‘nother world as both O (1/4” scale) and HO (1/8” scale) gauge trains were set up in working displays. And many a youngster has been thrilled to open the much-anticipated Christmas gift of a model train set like these! At the New York Society of Model Engineers display at 341 Hoboken Rd, Carlstadt, NJ 07072, the HO-gauge trains run through small towns, farming communities and mountain passes – with sound effects of the old locomotives. The display is not huge by any means, encompassing two good-sized rooms, but it’s a fantastic setup nonetheless. My Dad, Ralph, was born to Dutch immigrants in Kalamazoo, Michigan, but grew up in Clifton, New Jersey next to the train tracks, where he developed his love for the old steam engines. Clifton had two train stations – one for the Erie Railroad and one for the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western Railroad. Eventually, they consolidated as the Erie-Lackawanna Railroad in 1960. We lived opposite the closed Erie station in the latter 1960s, the parking lot being a great paved playground for us kids; but it has since been demolished like many others, the loss of a priceless piece of history, to make way for new business buildings. In talking with my father while writing this article in 2014, he told me, “Steam engines were doing a great job, getting better and better, especially when the Big Boy locomotives were developed and used out west.” He told me their wheel designation was 4-8-8-4, which I’d learned from my research so I knew exactly what he was talking about. He explained, “They had a front 4-wheeled truck to stabilize the engine on the curves, followed by 8 driving wheels, another set of 8 drivers, and a rear 4-wheeled truck underneath the engine’s firebox with the tender car coupled behind that. Tenders carried the train’s fuel [coal, wood or oil] and water. The Big Boys were used to pull freight cars a mile or more in length over the western mountains.” Dad added that, in the latter 1940s after World War II, it was determined diesel engines could do a better job and go faster than the old steam engines. “But actually, a steam locomotive could accelerate faster from a standing start than diesels, which were slower to get started; once they got up to speed though, the diesels could travel much faster than steam engines.” By 1950, he said, the railroad companies had switched all their locomotives to diesel. “But now and then you might see a rare steam engine being used on the track just because it was available.” My Dad also explained that steam locomotives needed a tremendous amount of water to create steam from the burning fuel. For example, in The Great Book of Railways, I learned that the Big Boys used “22 tons of coal and 44 tons of water every hour.” (p.20) Clean-burning anthracite coal from Pennsylvania mines was used to fuel steam engines in the eastern U.S. with coal from Wyoming used for the western trains. I was surprised to hear my Dad say that oil was also used for trains out west because of the availability, but with the proximity of oil wells that makes sense. “And water tanks,” he added, “were set up every so many miles along with places to take on more coal. Some trains used extra tenders to carry additional fuel needed for their run. And sometimes, to get a train up a mountain, more than one engine was coupled together to haul the freight cars up, or they used pusher locomotives at the rear of the cars.” And then my Dad, who never passed up the opportunity to tell a good story, shared this one about a well-seasoned engineer running a steam locomotive with a long line of cars. They’d just hired a new young fireman on the crew. As the train pulled up to a water tower, the engineer placed the tender exactly in position to take on water. Pulling the chain on the gantry (crane), the young fireman filled the tender. When he was done, he released the chain, took a look in the tender to check the water level and fell in, yelling for help, paddling to stay afloat, wondering how long it would take for them to get him out of there. After a while the old engineer strolled back to see what was taking so long. Peering into the tender, he pondered the sight that met his eyes, and calmly said, “You know, son… you don’t need to tamp the water down!” I have to admit – I really enjoy researching and writing articles for the learning I gain in the process, but this article was one of my absolute favorites as it meant so much to my Dad who was on Hospice at the time of this writing (passing away in April 2015). And it carries childhood memories of time spent with my Dad at the Jersey train shows. So, come along and together we’ll learn the history of those grand old iron horses, the steam locomotives. Looking back to the start of the 19th century, life was moving forward at a relatively slow pace. The times still invoked thoughts of the century past in every-day life, but now there was a sense of optimism in our new nation. And, if they could only have known of the many improvements to come in the new century, they’d have shaken their heads in disbelief, just as our view backward amazes us at our nation’s changes. Since the invention of the wheel, man has been contemplating how to make a better wheel or vehicle to transport all manner of goods. England’s mines were the backdrop for development of the early steam locomotives by some of the best engineers in the late 18th to early 19th centuries. Beginning in February 1804, Richard Trevithick’s locomotive invention hauled iron and passengers, followed by locomotives for racked/cogged rails (trains with a center driving wheel which engages with the racked or cogged rail for climbing steep grades) as designed by John Blenkinsop in 1812. The next year William Hedley’s Puffing Billies came on the scene (the first smooth-wheeled locomotives), with George Stephenson’s steam locomotive of 1814 designed to work at a typical colliery (British deep-pit coal mine). [The Great Book of Railways, pp.8-9] On a side note, the above research regarding Hedley’s Puffing Billy trains brought to mind a favorite children’s song that perhaps others remember. “Down by the station, Early in the morning, See the little pufferbellies, All in a row. See the station master, Turn the little handle [we sang throttle], Chug chug, puff puff, Off they go!” Supposedly written by Lee Ricks and Slim Gaillard in 1948, the words go back to a 1931 Recreation magazine, with a tune similar to Alouette; and first popularized by Tommy Dorsey. (Wikipedia) American ingenuity took a little longer than the Brits to work itself up to full steam. With the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company forming in 1823, the intent was to construct and operate canals between New York City and the coal mines near Carbondale in northeast Pennsylvania. Eventually, the idea of locomotive power became their focus as a more efficient means of transporting both coal and passengers. With that in mind, the D&H engineers took a tour of England’s renowned locomotive factories to gauge what would best meet their needs. This tour led the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company to order the first steam locomotives for use in the United States. Built in England in 1828 by Foster, Rastrick & Company, the Stourbridge Lion was shipped over in pieces and reassembled at New York’s West Point Foundry. Ready for its first official run made on August 8, 1829, it was meant to carry coal from the mines near Carbondale to the canal at Honesdale, Pennsylvania. Weighing about 7-1/2 tons, however, it was too heavy for the wooden track, a definite disappointment as the engineers had sent requirements to England for a locomotive weighing not more than 4 tons. However, by the early 1830s, steam locomotives were being built in the United States. Col. John Stevens, the “father of American railroads,” set up an experimental track by 1826 on his property in Hoboken, New Jersey to prove the viability of a steam locomotive operation. In 1830, Peter Cooper built the first American-made steam locomotive, the Tom Thumb, which ran on common track. The public was additionally impressed when George Pullman invented the Pullman Sleeping Car in 1857, improving passengers’ over-night travel. With much of our early transportation dependent upon beasts of burden over roads which were not of the best quality (previously published under my blog "Traveling From Here to There"), or by boats on the rivers and lakes, a boon developed with the construction of numerous canals. Following close on the heels of New York’s Erie Canal debut in 1825 (see my Homestead article "Clinton’s Ditch, aka The Erie Canal") was the burgeoning development of the railroad. With a good percentage of engineers graduating from the U. S. Military Academy at West Point, their knowledge was put to active use in surveying, planning and developing the railroads. With their expertise, many of these West Point graduates soon became presidents and officers of the various railroad companies. Each state soon began granting charters to these newly-formed railroad companies. Among the earliest to be chartered was the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad (B&O) in 1827. Intended to run between Baltimore and the Ohio River, its first section opened May 24, 1830. New York’s Mohawk & Hudson Railroad was incorporated in 1826, and began operating in August 1831. Its first locomotive was the DeWitt Clinton, named for the former New York State governor of Erie Canal fame. The Saratoga & Schenectady Railroad followed soon after with its opening in June 1832. Even then, ideas were being discussed regarding laying longer track from New York to Buffalo; but, it was a delicate subject as the state was heavily in debt for the Erie Canal which had just opened in 1825. Throughout the succeeding decades, many small railroad corporations merged to operate more efficiently. In particular, the New York Central, headquartered in New York City, eventually became the main consolidated corporation in the northeast and Midwest as it merged with more than half a dozen other companies. Innumerable side tracks were laid to meet the transportation needs of outlying regions as freight was shipped more efficiently than previously. Towns vied for the opportunity to be on a rail line or spur, able to ship products out from a nearby hub rather than the expense of taking goods to a station many miles away. Some towns were established after track was laid. Stations built in towns on the line included water towers there and along the route to replenish the locomotive’s need to create steam and thus power. The public found it convenient to take a passenger train for a trip to the next town or hundreds of miles away. It sure beat the slow horse and buggy! But a major issue began to build as train schedules were based on differing times in towns along any given route. To bring this under control, the railroads determined standard time was of vital importance. At noon on November 18, 1883, standard time zones for both American and Canadian railroads began. Prior to this date, both nations were riddled with innumerable differences in time across the countryside. The vast differences stemmed from the use of “high noon” as each town clock was set depending upon when the sun was at its peak above their town. Obviously, the discrepancies in time caused a nightmare for train schedules, and standardized time was the only logical answer. Without government approval, the powerful railroad companies established four standard time zones which remain close to those still in use. In 1918, Congress formalized the arrangement, putting the railroads under the Interstate Commerce Commission. Prior to America’s adoption of standard time, the Great Western Railroad had established standard time in Britain beginning in 1840, with virtually all railroads adopting London time by 1847. It should also be mentioned that tracks were built to different size specifications. Northern railroads typically used a standard 4 ft 8-1/2 inch or 4 ft 9 inch wide track. This was based on English track dimensions and the fact that U.S. railroads expected to import more British-made locomotives. This was the gauge used by George Stephenson (British inventor above) for his locomotives simply because he was familiar with this track width from a local mine near Newcastle. As it turns out, that gauge was used for the mine track simply because it was the common width of local ancient Roman roads in England. It was next determined by measurements taken at excavations in Pompeii and elsewhere that ancient Roman roads were made for a standard chariot wheelbase of about 4 ft 9 inches or slightly less! And that is how 4 ft 8-1/2 inch rails became the industry standard! The early American railroads like the Baltimore & Ohio and Boston & Albany set their rails at 4 ft 8-1/2 inches, the Pennsylvania R.R. used 4 ft 9 inches, the Erie and Lackawanna both used 6 ft 0 inch tracks, Canada used a 5 ft 6 inch gauge, while Southern U.S. rails were set at 5 ft 0 inches. Obviously, the discrepancies prevented trains from running on certain track, necessitating standardization throughout the industry. I was amazed to learn that for 36 hours over two days starting May 31, 1886, thousands upon thousands of workers pulled spikes from all west-bound tracks in the South, moved the rails in by 3 inches to 4 ft 9 inches, and immediately replaced the spikes. Thus, as of June 1886, all North American tracks were capable of running locomotives built for standard 4 ft 8-1/2 inch rails. Impressive tunnels, bridges and viaducts were also designed and constructed to carry trains over stunning views of open water or above valley floors between steep mountain cliffs. With the need for better materials, wrought iron rail was produced in England by 1820. Following this, steel in America became available in the mid-1800s with the process improved in England by 1860. Naturally, the feasibility of a transcontinental track came under discussion and planning for several years before it became reality. With the Pacific Railway Act of 1862 under President Lincoln, healing began for a war-torn nation as the north and south pulled together in a common goal after the Civil War. The idea alone of a main railroad line from one ocean to the other across an entire continent was exhilarating! As the Central Pacific Railroad toiled westward over the plains and up the eastern Rockies, the Union Pacific laid its track eastward out of California, over and through the western side of the Rockies. Meeting at Promontory Summit in Utah on May 10, 1869, the Golden Spike was nailed into the track in an exciting celebration. In honor of the occasion, the Union Pacific’s No. 119 and the Central Pacific’s No. 60 (Jupiter) steam locomotives met face-to-face with a single railroad tie width between them. This event was the conclusion of several years’ worth of investment in time spent planning, designing, and hard physical labor of laying track. Many an immigrant, particularly the Irish and Chinese, found work in this venture. Across the plains and through tunnels blasted out of the seemingly impassable Rocky Mountains, the rails moved inexorably toward each other with much of the original roadbed still in use today. The meeting of tracks created a transcontinental railroad connecting innumerable side tracks and spurs from all across the nation. It was where the east met the west, no longer necessitating travel for months by wagon train from the Mississippi River to the Oregon Trail and points along the west coast. Nor did it require a lengthy sail by ship through dangerous seas around the horn of South America to reach our nation’s western lands. Closer to home, 20 miles south of us, Sayre, Pennsylvania housed the extensive Lehigh Valley rail yard. Completed by 1904, it held the second largest factory of its kind in the world. Large cranes were in place to lift a locomotive and move it anywhere. With nearly everyone in Sayre working in one way or another for the railroad, it’s been said that the huge factories were noted for building or rebuilding one steam locomotive every day during peak production. In fact, between 1913 and 1921, the factories at Sayre built over 40 K-class locomotives. (The History of the Lehigh Valley Railroad, p.181.) I would love to see a museum to the local railroad industry built there. Along with a growing railroad industry came the need of medical services for injured railroad workers. Robert Packer Hospital, established with railroad money, was named for Robert, son of Asa Packer who was the director of Lehigh Valley Railroad. The hospital’s adjoining Guthrie Clinic was modeled after Rochester, Minnesota’s Mayo Clinic. Donald Guthrie, MD, a graduate of Mayo, was appointed Superintendant and Surgeon-in-Chief of Guthrie Clinic (which is named in his honor), taking up his position in January 1910. Headquartered in New York City, the Lehigh Valley Railroad made an obvious impact on our region’s economy. Begun as the Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company in the 1820s, it once held a monopoly in the mining and transporting of coal. In order to break its monopoly, the Delaware, Lehigh, Schuylkill & Susquehanna Railroad was incorporated in 1846. In 1853, under Asa Packer’s expert management, this mouthful of a company name became known simply as the Lehigh Valley Railroad. One of its passenger trains, the Black Diamond Express, with an Atlantic 4-4-2 locomotive, held quite a reputation. Known as the “Route of the Black Diamond” (named for the clean-burning anthracite coal it carried), the track ran from New York City, west through New Jersey to Easton, Pennsylvania, northwest past Wilkes-Barre and through numerous switchbacks to climb the mountains on its trip northwest to Sayre, Pennsylvania, then into New York by going north to Van Etten, northwest to Geneva, and finally west to Buffalo. Beginning in 1876, the Lehigh Valley Railroad “took control of the newly reorganized Geneva, Ithaca, and Sayre Railroad, started by Ezra Cornell of Ithaca. The famous university that he founded in 1865 would fill regular and special trains with college students and their families for decades. Special excursion trains were often set up with tiered-bleacher seating on flat cars for passengers to watch crew races on Cayuga Lake as the train kept abreast of the scullers. (History of the Lehigh Valley Railroad, p.126) The line to Geneva provided the Lehigh Valley a means to construct their own line into Buffalo, but its grade out of Ithaca to Geneva was too steep for heavy freight trains to travel. A diverging route was planned from Van Etten (then known as Van Ettenville) to Geneva along the east side of Seneca Lake. In 1892, the new bypass was open and the line was also completed from Geneva to Buffalo. The original route from Van Etten to Geneva via Ithaca was now used for passenger trains and local freights.” With a new luxury train scheduled for its first run on May 18, 1896, the Lehigh Valley Railroad ran a contest to name the train. With over 35,000 entries received, the winner was Charles Montgomery, a hotel clerk from Toledo, Ohio. His submission, Black Diamond Express, “was considered most befitting the premier train of a railroad whose history and revenues were so closely intertwined with anthrocite.” [The History of the Lehigh Valley Railroad, p.152] “Running from New York City to Buffalo, the Black Diamond was promoted as a train of luxury. The 315-foot long train was the fastest in their fleet. The Black Diamond had chefs on board who were skilled in culinary arts. Complete kitchens had every facility present for ‘preparing and serving substantials and delicacies in most appetizing fashion.’ Day coaches were outfitted with plush velvet chairs, a large comfortable smoking room, and lavatories for both men and women. The last car seated 28 passengers and included a parlor and an observation platform. It was equipped with plate glass windows at the rear and wicker chairs for passenger pleasure. Touted by the Lehigh Valley as ‘The Handsomest Train in the World,’ the roadbed it traveled soon became known as “The Route of the Black Diamond.” Because of its appeal to newlyweds on their way to Niagara Falls, the train was nicknamed the ‘Honeymoon Express.’” (The Lehigh Valley Historical Society took much of its information from the book, The History of the Lehigh Valley Railroad, pp.152-153] Of course, accidents occurred for all railroads and the Lehigh Valley was no exception. Its second worst passenger train wreck took place on August 25, 1911. As the No.4 train headed east out of Buffalo, it derailed on the Canandaigua Outlet Bridge because of a broken rail. One passenger car rolled over onto its side, while two others fell into the creek 40 feet below with 29 killed and 62 injured. Built in 1916, a 30-bay roundhouse and turntable just south of Manchester, NY was used by the Lehigh Valley Railroad to and from Buffalo. With the train yard seeing a decline in freight traffic during the post-World War II era, its doors closed forever in 1970. Once considered the largest in the world, the Manchester Yard employed over 1000 people during its peak years. In the mid-1960s, my dad had taken us kids on a ride to see the train yards along the Jersey shore. Touring a round house, I can still envision the locomotive inside as it was turned onto a different track. Fascinating stuff! In the decades after World War II, as better and more modern means of transportation came onto the scene with trucks traveling over better paved roads and planes reaching distant destinations in only hours, the old trains and their tracks began disappearing. Lehigh Valley passenger service also declined, ending with the Black Diamond Express making her final run with her sister train, Star, on May 11, 1959. As bigger and better locomotives were built throughout the latter 19th and early 20th centuries, record speeds were reached at or above 100 mph. The first train ever to record a speed of 100 mph was the Empire State Express of the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad on May 9, 1893 on a run between Rochester and Buffalo, NY. Great Britain’s famous Flying Scotsman hit 100 mph in 1934, while the British Mallard reached a record 126 mph pulling 245 tons in 1938. Recently, on February 25, 2016, the Flying Scotsman returned to the tracks in England, fully restored. Retired in 1963 when diesel engines took over, she spent a number of years pulling tourist trains along the western coast in the U.S. Sandwiched in the years between two world wars, the largest steam locomotives were built in both America and Europe. In the U.S., engines were often coupled together to provide strength for running with longer lines of loaded freight cars strung out behind, especially as they traversed the mountain passes of the western states. Then, in the early 1940s, the American Locomotive Company (ALCO) in Schenectady, New York built 25 of the largest locomotives ever. They were dubbed the “Big Boys,” intended for hauling freight over the western Wasatch Mountains. These are the locomotives which had impressed my Dad while growing up as I mentioned in Part I. In August 2013, Union Pacific Big Boy Engine No. 4014 was prepared for return to the Union Pacific Steam Shop in Cheyenne, Wyoming from a Pomona, California museum. Expected to begin its journey in April 2014, it was pulled by several modern locomotives. Researching and writing this article in 2014, complete restoration would take place over the next several years to full working condition, with my son mentioning they converted the 4014’s engine to oil from coal burning. An internet search of Big Boy No. 4014 will provide photos and videos of this magnificent locomotive. Built in November 1941, and with restoration completed on May 1, 2019 after sitting idle for nearly sixty years since its last run in 1959, the Union Pacific 4014 doubleheaded an excursion with UP’s 844 on May 4, 2019. Currently, 4014 operates an excursion service as “part of the Union Pacific’s heritage fleet.” (Wikipedia) Due to the Covid-19 pandemic, excursions were canceled for 2020, but 4014 is expected to resume this service later in 2021. Over time, the amount of coal needed to fuel these big steam engines contributed to their demise. In order to stay competitive with OTR (over-the-road) truck and plane transportation, diesel and electric locomotive engines were designed and implemented. Germany’s Rudolph Diesel designed the first successful engine in 1897 which bears his name. By 1912, the first successful German-built diesel locomotive was also in use. Simply put, I learned that diesel operates differently by using an oil injection as compared to a gasoline-powered engine with spark plugs. Freight cars in America have often been pulled by several locomotives coupled together, providing greater strength than a single engine. Modern locomotives are designed with diesel engines and electric generators which help them reach top speed much quicker than a simple diesel engine alone. Thus, the “world’s first streamlined diesel-electric [locomotive was] a Denver-Chicago express” which began running in 1934. (The Great Book of Railways) With the invention of electricity, it wasn’t long before the great inventors put it to use in operating trains. Electric trains are connected to an overhead electric wire/cable which provides power. The first electric tram, designed by another German, Werner von Siemens, was on working display at the Berlin Trades Exhibition on May 31, 1879. His brother, Sir William Siemens, settled in England and designed the first electric railroad which began running in 1883 in Northern Ireland. It was not until 1890, however, that London’s first electric railway began operating in underground tunnels. London’s Metropolitan Railway soon became the world’s first subway in 1863 by using underground steam trains. Following these world firsts, America’s first electric railway was put to use in 1895 by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad with electric locomotives pulling steam trains through tunnels under Baltimore, Maryland. (The Great Book of Railways) And, of course, we also have subways and elevated rails which provide convenient transportation beneath and above city streets. In the latter 20th century, travel by traditional passenger train declined. There are, however, some passenger lines still in operation, including scenic excursions, just as there are freight lines providing an important transportation option. Locally, we can watch a freight train pass through Van Etten and Spencer as it makes its way to and from the Cayuga power plant north of Ithaca, NY. I enjoy the days when we can clearly hear its whistle and the sound of the heavy engines and cars clicking and creaking over the rails as it passes through our community, reminding us of the halcyon days of active rail travel. At the end of every freight train was the red caboose. These cars were used until safety laws were relaxed in 1980 at which time improved safety monitoring devices were implemented. Cabooses provided shelter and cooking facilities for the crew who were needed to switch or shunt a train or individual cars onto another track. This was dangerous work as men could become injured or run over when coupling or uncoupling the cars. The crew also kept an eye out for any shifting of loads in the cars, or damage to equipment and freight, or axles that might be overheating. The cupola on top helped them keep an eye out for problems on the track or with the cars. The railroads provided a whole new way of life with many associated occupations, a pride that came with working on the railroad, and a faster way to travel from here to there for quite some time. We gaze up at those old locomotives, fascinated with their powerful size and the skill of the engineers running them. Railroads had a major impact on the growth of our nation, including businesses and efficient rapid transportation of goods and people. As we noted above, the railroad companies were even the impetus behind establishing standard time. Scattered around the U.S. are many old steam locomotives available for excursion rides, along with several train museums to showcase and remember “the way it was”. Simply put, railroads were a vital component to America’s way of life. When railroad companies began closing, it was the end to a way of life that had grown more modern in new ways… It was the end of an era. One of my favorites sung by Arlo Guthrie says it all, “The City of New Orleans”, written by Steve Goodman: Riding on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday morning rail Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail. All along the southbound odyssey The train pulls out at Kankakee Rolls along past houses, farms and fields Passin' trains that have no name Freight yards full of old black men And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles. Good morning America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done. Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor And the sons of pullman porters And the sons of engineers Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel Mothers with their babes asleep Are rockin' to the gentle beat And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel. Good morning America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done. Nighttime on the City of New Orleans Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee Half way home, we'll be there by morning Through the Mississippi darkness Rolling down to the sea But all the towns and people seem To fade into a bad dream And the steel rail still ain't heard the news The conductor sings his songs again The passengers will please refrain This train got the disappearing railroad blues. Good night, America, how are you? Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son I'm the train they call the City of New Orleans I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done… ~~ Linda Roorda writes from her home in Spencer.

Thank you so much, Ann 🙂

I think one tends to affiliate with folks who think and believe like they do, whether in a church or for companionship. I grew up as a grandchild of Dutch immigrants, the same for my husband. We both were members of the Christian Reformed Church (the Americanized version of the Dutch Reformed Church), and I attended its Christian schools thru 6th grade (husband did not because they were not equipped to handle a legally blind child like the aids a public school had access to) before attending a city public junior high in NJ to major culture shock. In said churches in both NY and NJ, we were all typically of Dutch descent in each church and believed in and adhered to the Calvinist biblical foundational doctrines. We also had Black and Asian members, dear friends. I did not see race. We did not discriminate. We were simply good friends. Nor was the proportion of others who were not Dutch in the church indicative of the community at large surrounding the church. If you want more folks of any background attending any given church, you need to be involved in the community like Chris said above. There are so many different churches to choose from... because there are so many different opinions/beliefs and interpretations of Holy Scripture. Just because there might be a specific church denomination "next door/close" to me would not be the reason I would attend said church services. I look for one that worships God in a way compatible with my Reformed biblical beliefs, not because of the color of one's skin or ethnic background.

Some of us know the depths of depression and despondency. Some of us know the lack of physical healing or the pain of incurable disease. Some of us know the sorrow and grief of losing a precious loved one. Some of us know family dysfunction. Some of us know abuse that no one else can see or fathom. And we question how this could be… How could a loving God leave us in pain by not healing us, even after much prayer? How could a loving God allow so much evil to go on all around us? How could a loving God allow the senseless shooting sprees that kill our innocent children? How could you do that to us God? But it’s not God who does this to us… with Adam and Eve came “the fall.” The perfect first couple failed to heed God’s words, listening instead to the guile of sweet flattery from the serpent. Ever since, we and this world around us have been living with sin and its imperfections. We tend to put ourselves… our wants and desires… first. I remember many years ago leaders in our church said that if anyone was discouraged or depressed, they must not be a true believer in God. How wrong and presumptuous to think that the difficulties of life can’t and won’t weary anyone, including a hardy Saint! We’re human, as were the best examples in Scripture who dealt with their own failings and weaknesses which brought them to their knees. King David’s psalms of poetic devotions which vividly show his laments and pleadings, including what sound like desperation and depression at times, also showing David’s rejoicing in God’s guidance, protection and provision. He was no different than us in the ups and downs, and sins, of life. We all express our sorrows and laments as well as joy and thankfulness. Yet, it could also be asked, where are we in bringing aid and comfort to the one who has been wearied by the blows of life? As David begins Psalm 55, he sends up a prayerful plea: “Listen to my prayer, O God, do not ignore my plea; hear me and answer me. My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught at the voice of the enemy, at the stares of the wicked; for they bring down suffering upon me and revile me in their anger.” Yet, as verse 22 attests, David confidently reminds us to whom he could turn despite his troubles by saying, “Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you…” A sentiment confirmed by the bold and outspoken Apostle Peter who said to “Cast all your anxiety/cares on him because he cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7) And this from the man who three times denied he ever knew Jesus, his Lord and closest friend! The difficulties we face do not mean God doesn’t hear our cries, our pleas, our prayers. Though His answers may not be what we want or expect, He will answer in His time and in His way… for He alone knows the best way to meet our needs. His answer to our prayers may not come immediately. Sometimes it’s not until much later that we look back and say, “So that’s why things happened that way!” In allowing difficulties to come into our lives, God quietly gives us an opportunity to grow. By seeking our Lord’s will through those hard times, we mature in our faith. Even the Apostle Paul dealt with a “thorn in the flesh.” Some have thought it might be poor vision after the brilliant light that temporarily blinded him on the road to his conversion. We don’t know his exact problem, and it really doesn’t matter. Paul felt it was given to him to prevent his becoming conceited. Three times he asked the Lord to remove it, to heal him; but it was not removed and he was not healed. Instead, what Paul heard in his heart was the Lord saying, “…My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (II Corinthians 12:9 NIV) In the days that seem so dark, so dreary, so difficult and painful… know that you can find comfort from those around you… a spouse, a child, a dear friend, your church family, a friend within your community. They will be there to comfort you and see you through, and point you in the right direction for help. Assistance may even come through professionals who can provide counseling, medical care and medication. But also know that there is another who will be there, one who will come alongside, hold you up, and carry you on those days when you can barely manage to move forward – our Lord. I know, because He’s been there for me, for us, through dark and difficult days, with a peace I can only describe as an overwhelming warm blanket of comfort… for “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:7 NIV) There’s an old song I like by Rich Mullins, “That Where I Am, There You May Also Be.” I especially appreciate the chorus, “In this world you will have trouble but I leave you my peace…” This song is based on John 16:33 where Jesus said, “I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” As my proofreader, my husband, Ed, had once commented, “It’s a feeling of complete and unexplainable tranquility knowing that nothing can shake you anymore, that God has your back whatever comes at you. It’s knowing that you have Jesus and that He died for you; and, when the end comes, that you’re going where He is and there will be peace forever with Him… If I had a choice between complete healing of all my disabilities or having the peace of God in my heart, I would choose peace over healing. Although very difficult at times, with God’s help I can survive my disabilities, but I cannot even begin to imagine how I could live without knowing that through the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross and his resurrection I have a secure home in heaven after I die. It is one of the great gifts our loving, merciful and gracious God gives us. First, he gives life; then through belief in Christ he gives us salvation, and then because of our salvation we are cloaked in the ‘peace that passes all understanding’. Without that peace, life would be unbearable; it would be a living hell.” And that from a man who was legally blind with only one viable eye from birth, later going totally blind, and who spent 14 years in unending pain and difficulty with multiple overlapping diagnoses… Those words showed the depth of my husband’s heart for our God. It is this overwhelming peace that I have felt as our Lord wrapped His loving arms around me while in prayer, thanking Him for blessings through difficult days... in our daughter’s passing, in my husband’s blindness, extensive health issues, and his passing… and so much more. Do I always remember to pray right away, to thank Him, and ask for His help and guidance? No, unfortunately, I don’t. Sometimes it’s later that I think, once again, why didn’t I go to God first? I know I need to ask Him to change my heart just as much as I know He is there waiting for me to draw near to Him, telling me “I’ll be there…” Just like the words we say to a friend in need - I’ll be there… as we become Christ’s hands and feet for others. I’ll Be There… Linda A. Roorda When you feel As though the world Has closed in tightly all around… I’ll be there. ~ When it seems As though your prayers Are never answered… I’ll be there. ~ When the road You’re traveling on Seems too steep to climb… I’ll be there. ~ When it’s hard To face life’s challenges That hide your peace and squelch your joy… I’ll be there. ~ When you peer Into nothing but darkness That envelopes your entire world… I’ll be there. ~ When the Lord Does not give healing But simply says, “Trust me…” I’ll be there. ~ When you step Into a bright new day But only feel never-ending pain… I’ll be there. ~ When you need A hand to grasp And an ear to hear the depths of your soul… I’ll be there. ~ When a tear Begins to slide And sadness covers your entire world… I’ll be there. ~ When your face Looks up in prayer While holding tight your Maker’s hand… I’ll be there. ~ When you feel God’s loving arms Gently enfold as He carries you… I’ll be there. ~ When you sense God’s peace fill your soul He gently whispers within your heart… I’ll be there. ~~

I grew up in a great church full of my “own kind” – i.e. Dutch immigrants and their first- and second-generation families born in the U.S., the Christian Reformed Church. I felt a bond and a love for my family and friends from both communities in Clifton, N.J. and East Palmyra, N.Y. As my family moved back and forth between the two church and Christian school communities, friendships were made with some lasting a lifetime. I treasure the churches of my earliest memories. I treasure having had the opportunity to go to Christian elementary school in both communities through the 6th grade. I treasure the wisdom gained, and biblical lessons learned. I treasure Vacation Bible School, Pioneer Girls, and the catechism classes which taught a biblical doctrinal foundation on which to lean during both the good and the difficult times. But naturally, life moves on even as some of us move away from the tight-knit friendships we once knew. But in the midst of life’s happenings, there comes a time when we each have a decision to make – who will we follow? To whom will we give our hearts? Is it the things of this earth and the gratification we can readily obtain, or is it the faith and hope in a salvation granted through Jesus’ life and death and resurrection that will provide a heavenly eternal home? At 15, I made the choice for the latter in asking Jesus into my heart under Pastor Wells of the North Waverly Chapel. Despite getting down on my knees, confessing my sins, and asking for His forgiveness and eternal love, I did not live out my faith as I should have at that time. Actually, it’s been a lifetime of growth. Because, being the imperfect beings that we are, we manage to walk through life leaving a trail of mistakes behind. And all we can do is own our wrongs and say “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” But I am forever grateful that our great God forgives us on our confession; and, in His gracious mercy, guides us along a better path. And just as the Lord draws us close to His side and offers redemption, we can give the same forgiveness and love to others who we’ve been blessed to be family and friends with. You Are Linda A. Roorda You gave your life that I should live You carried my sin alone to the cross You took my shame that I would find peace As You opened arms to welcome with grace. ~ How can I not but love You in turn? How can I ever repay Your free gift? Precious Redeemer, You gave all for me To free my soul from sin’s heavy guilt. ~ You are the One who draws near to me And only ask I seek You in faith You let me face the trials of life As I bring concerns humbly in prayer. ~ For You have shown I belong to You With a heart for You I will gladly serve You seek me out, call me to Your side To show me a love only You can give. ~ What should it matter what others will think? In forsaking all this world can offer… To You I draw near and lean on Your word That I may bring praise to honor Your name. ~ You are my light, the way and the truth You guide my steps on this rocky path It’s You I seek when storms come my way Your words of wisdom will guide day by day. ~ You are my hope when all else seems lost Yet may I be found worthy of You May I give praise for all You have done And all You will do to change me within. ~ When failures dash an expectant hope Should I not look upon Your face first Seeking Your will before I take reins That I would but make Your wisdom my guide. ~ You are my life, the depths of my soul Your truth does urge my heart to respond That others may see death carries no sting For You lift me up that I may withstand. ~ You are my words when I have yet none You know my thoughts as I voice to praise Your words bring truth to my world of doubts To guide and direct, like You to become. ~~

Absolutely! A beautiful love story 🙂

I did enjoy their story!!

What is our worth, our value? How do we even measure such an entity? Have we been so downtrodden that we feel like a failure… like we’re unworthy of the love of others? Or do we hold our head up knowing we have inherent worth among the rest? Feeling unworthy is not new to any of us. We’ve all been there at times throughout our life. Haven’t we at one time or another made a simple mistake, yet were left feeling so ashamed we just wanted to disappear? I have. Frequently belittled in the past by those with a bravado making up for their own insecurities, I’ve felt defeated and worthless, without importance or value. After my family moved from farm life near East Palmyra, NY to city life in Clifton, NJ in February 1965, I struggled to accept this new way of life. I hated the move and city life with every fiber of my being. At age 10, I’d essentially lost all my good friends and the value of who I was… or so I thought. I had to start over in a new city and a new school, trying to make new friends. Initially, this small school did not represent the love that I had been used to. Here, at a city Christian school, I initially knew only two people – my younger cousin, Susan, and our minister’s daughter, Kristin. Amazingly, her father had previously been our pastor in both East Palmyra and Clifton, and Kristin and my sister and I were already friends – we used to visit each other for play dates. So, on the very first day of school, Kristin brought me and my sister inside to take us to the office. Instead, we were met in the hall by the principal who yelled at us for being inside, insisting we go back outside until the bell rang. I felt so belittled, worthless, like I’d done something terribly wrong, all because the principal did not listen to us, nor recognize and understand that we were trying to tell her we were new students. At that time, I was smart, looked up to by peers. However, there came a day that spring when I made a mistake so blatant that I was shamed. Waiting for the school bus at the top of our block, I saw a truck pass by with S.O.X. written in very large letters on the side – and South Orange Express written beneath. That’s an interesting name, I thought. I’ll have to look for that truck again! That morning in school we had a surprise spelling bee – something I excelled in. I read extensively already in fourth grade, being allowed three books for the week from the school library while everyone else could only take two. As the spelling bee progressed through its rounds, I was given the word “socks.” Of course, I knew that simple word. Yet, what proceeded to come forth out of my mouth was “s-o-x.” And, then I was laughed at… Oh, my goodness! What had I just done? I knew how to spell socks! But that trucking company’s name had become embedded in my brain that morning, and, without thinking, that’s what I blurted out! I was so utterly ashamed that I went back to my desk fighting tears, refusing to show outwardly my devastated emotions. I felt absolutely worthless… On reading this story, my husband Ed encouraged me by saying, “Hey! There are two baseball teams, the Red Sox and the White Sox. You weren’t so far off after all!” Acceptance by peers is not where my value and worth truly comes from. Too often, we put stock in how others perceive us, even as adults… and in what they consider to be of value – like intelligence, good looks, possessions, and how much fun we are. Instead, those things are all part of worldly superficial values. My family could not afford the latest new toys, nor the current fashion in clothes. I usually wore and appreciated hand-me-down clothes… especially appreciating clothing gifts from my grandparents, or fabric to sew clothes for myself once I learned how. But the simplicity taught me to value what I did have, and to consider others no less worthy than myself. I do not look down on someone else, developing empathy toward others in their struggles. Remembering that when I meet someone new, or see someone who’s been hurt by mocking and shaming, I know how it feels as it had once been me. Reaching out to others shows they are worthy, too! Though we may doubt our worth, God does not. He knows our value. After all, He created us and designed our individuality. There are no two of us alike. In this way, we each bring our uniqueness to benefit the world. Unfortunately, our inherent value, our worth, has been undermined... by sin. Yet, God loves us so much that He sent His beloved and only son, Jesus, to take the punishment for our wayward ways, our sin… to die in our place. (John 3:16) And with that gracious gift we realize, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” (I John 3:1) God knows our worth! He values and loves each one of us for who we are... for who He created us to be! Though we may think we’re not worthy, we truly do have value… for we are totally and unconditionally loved by our awesome God… we are worthy!! Worthy Linda A. Roorda I am not worthy to be called Your child I’ve willfully gone about my own way I threw caution away with the wind Thinking alone this world I could handle. ~ But here I am down on my knees Knowing I’ve failed time after time How can You care and how can You love Someone like me still bucking the reins. ~ You gently seek and call out to me Drawing me close, my wrongs now to see Had I listened to Your voice all along I would not feel the shame I do now. ~ Yet as I reach for Your loving arms Hear my heart’s cry acknowledge my sin Knowing Your grace now covers my soul As once again, mercy washes clean. ~ I give You my all as I surrender now And give You the fears that grip at my soul What will I gain by taking the reins When Your guiding hands hold gently my heart. ~ For You hold me up and prove I’m worthy You lead me on to stand on Your words It’s then I feel Your arms surround me As Your love pours out its comforting peace. ~~ Linda Roorda writes from her home in Spencer.