Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

With gratitude for my southern Minnesota community November 25, 2024

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I photographed this tag hanging on The Gratitude Tree in the neighboring city of Northfield in 2019. I love this idea of publicly expressing thankfulness, including for community. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo July 2019)

WHEN CONSIDERING GRATITUDE, as we do this week, we usually look inward. But I want to look outward and share six reasons why I feel grateful to live in Faribault.

This is my all-time favorite image showing local diversity. Here children gather to break a pinata during an international festival at Faribault’s Central Park. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)

PEOPLE make a community. I knew no one when I moved here as a newlywed in 1982. But I was welcomed and have since formed deep friendships in Faribault. I can walk into a business, attend an event, or simply be out and about and run into someone who knows me. Conversation often follows.

Recently I attended a 75th anniversary open house at Burkhartzmeyer Shoes, a third-generation family owned shoe store in downtown Faribault. After purchasing athletic shoes, I headed to a back room for complimentary refreshments. A small group of us sat there talking and laughing, simply enjoying each other’s company. I felt like I was inside a small town cafe drinking coffee and conversing. It felt that down-home comfortable.

But I can feel just as comfortable with strangers, including Adolfo, whom I met in October while walking in Central Park. Adolfo moved to America from Venezuela, a country he fled because of Communism and violence. On this morning, he was pushing his one-year-old grandson in a stroller. It’s part of their daily routine. Darling Milan drew me to his grandpa, where I connected with Adolfo on a personal level and heard his story. I feel grateful for every opportunity I have to meet Faribault’s newest immigrants and hear their stories, stories often laced with hardship and hope. To live in a city as diverse as Faribault is truly a gift.

Kids help at the Faribault CommUnity Thanksgiving Dinner by, among other things, creating festive placemats. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2017)

Faribault overflows with CARING INDIVIDUALS AND ORGANIZATIONS striving to help others: the Community Action Center, Rice County Habitat for Humanity, St. Vincent de Paul, HOPE Center, Ruth’s House, IRIS (Infants Remembered in Silence), the Salvation Army, Operation: 23 to 0… I’ve received support while dealing with some especially challenging life events. When you experience that community love and care first-hand, you understand the true meaning of community.

Once again this Thanksgiving, volunteers will serve a free CommUnity Thanksgiving Dinner as they have for the past 30 some years. I’ve previously helped deliver those holiday meals. Every Tuesday, a free meal is also available at the Community Cafe. With Christmas approaching, I’m part of a bible study group coordinating the annual Angel Tree (gift giving) at my church. I could go on and on with an endless list of how people are helping people in my community. Hearts are loving, spirits giving.

A 1950s scene along Faribault’s Central Avenue is shown in this downtown mural. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I am especially grateful to live in a community which values THE ARTS. The Paradise Center for the Arts in downtown Faribault centers our arts scene. Every time I tour a gallery exhibit, attend a play or otherwise engage in the arts, I feel grateful to live here. I’ve even contributed to the local arts scene by publicly reading my poetry. I love attending summer concerts in the park and concerts inside the historic Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. I appreciate the history-based murals that color our downtown. I grew up in rural southwestern Minnesota with minimal access to the arts, meaning my gratitude for the arts in Faribault runs deep.

I treasure Buckham Memorial Library, just blocks from my home. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2022)

My thankfulness for BUCKHAM MEMORIAL LIBRARY also runs deep, for the very same reason. I grew up in a small farming town without a library. And I love to read. That we now also have a volunteer run used bookstore, Books on Central (benefitting the Rice County Area United Way), notches my gratitude level even higher.

A snippet of Faribault’s historic buildings, photographed during a monthly Car Cruise Night. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2016)

The bookshop is located in the heart of our HISTORIC DOWNTOWN, another reason I feel grateful to live in Faribault. My community cares about preserving historic buildings. I love old architecture. There’s nothing quite like walking among vintage vehicles along Central Avenue during Car Cruise Night as the sun sets at the end of a summer day. Beautiful.

In just minutes, I can reach the countryside, where I love to travel gravel roads. This road winds among the lakes and farm fields west of Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)

Faribault also offers incredible NATURAL BEAUTY in a diverse landscape of woods and prairie, hills and valleys, ravines and bluffs. It’s so different than my native prairie. Admittedly, it took me a while to “get used to” all the trees when I moved here 42 years ago. I still mostly have no sense of direction on roads and streets that don’t run prairie grid straight. But I love to walk through city parks, along city trails, at River Bend Nature Center, on the campus of the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf… And within a short drive of my home, I am immersed in the countryside.

A view of The Gratitude Tree outside the Northfield Public Library in 2021. People wrote their reasons for feeling thankful on a blank tag. Those were then hung on the tree. I’d like to see a Gratitude Tree in every community once a year. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2021)

This list of a half dozen reasons to feel thankful for the place I call home just touches the surface of why I am grateful to live in Faribault. It’s not utopia, certainly. Nowhere is. But today I want to pause, consider and acknowledge specific reasons for feeling thankful that Faribault is my home. I hope you’ll do the same, wherever you live.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A programming note & thoughts of gratitude January 20, 2024

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Expressions of gratitude are written on tags hung on The Gratitude Tree outside the Northfield Public Library in 2021. I love this idea. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo May 2021)

BEFORE I HEAD in to bilateral strabismus eye surgery this week and then recovery and healing, I want to take a moment to thank you, my dear family of blog readers. Thank you for your care, kindness, compassion and prayers. I’ve read all in your thoughtful messages. Mostly, I feel your love and support in my heart. You represent all that is good in this world. I am grateful.

An especially bright spot in the heart of downtown Faribault is the Second Street Garden, a pocket garden with positive messages. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2019)

I expect to be absent from writing and photography and, unfortunately, reading, while my eyes heal. Any blog posts you read this coming week were written pre-surgery and scheduled to publish. I’ll take this one day at a time and update you on surgery when I am able.

Love this LOVE mural in the heart of historic downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2020)

In the meantime, continue to shine your kindness and love into your neighborhoods, your communities, and into this big wide world. I firmly believe we each hold the power to uplift one another, to be that person who puts others before self, who chooses to build up rather than tear down, who exudes a spirit of hope and positivity. Onward, dear friends, onward.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Feeling grateful this Thanksgiving Day for a caring community November 24, 2022

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I created this Thanksgiving display in a stoneware bowl in 2015 with the card crafted by my sister-in-law Rena. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

AS THE SCENT OF ROASTING TURKEY fills the house, as tables are set, as friends and family gather, may thankfulness center your thoughts this Thanksgiving Day.

Even in these days of high inflation, political divisiveness and too many people sick with the flu, COVID and RSV, there is reason to pause and feel grateful. Our medical professionals continue to care for patients in overcrowded emergency rooms and hospitals. Post election, hope rises that politicians can work together. And for those who are struggling, individuals and organizations are stepping up to help.

My friends Gary and Barb ring bells for the Salvation Army in 2013. Randy and I followed them in ringing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo December 2013)

In my community, I see so much compassion and care for others, which truly causes my spirit to fill with gratitude. Last Saturday while exiting a local grocery store, I dropped several bills into the Salvation Army red kettle and thanked the ringers for ringing. What I got in return—bless you—was more than I gave. Later that day at a church boutique, my friend Joy sold holiday porch pots, side tables and benches she crafted from recycled wood, and more with all proceeds going to the Salvation Army.

Volunteers dish up meals at the community Thanksgiving dinner in 2016. Randy and I delivered meals. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2016)

Today a crew of volunteers will serve a free Faribault CommUnity Thanksgiving Dinner, open to anyone from 11 am – 2 pm at the Faribault Eagles Club. There’s in-person dining, curbside pick-up and delivery (if needed). I’ve delivered those meals in the past and, again, was blessed beyond measure by the grateful words of the recipients. (Monetary donations are accepted for the Faribault Foundation, with a mission of “enriching the quality of life for the Faribault community.)

Every Tuesday evening, volunteers also serve a free dinner at the Community Cafe, hosted at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour. The non-profit’s mission is “Build Community, One Meal at a Time.”

I display this vintage 1976 calendar each Thanksgiving as a reminder of my blessings. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

As more and more people struggle to afford food, to put food on the table, my community provides. Through church food shelves. At St. Vincent De Paul, which shares “faith, food and free resources” with a primary concern of charity and justice. At the Community Action Center of Faribault, a free food market and resource center.

This was some of the information presented at a 2018 collaborative public meeting in Faribault focused on domestic violence. Domestic violence typically rises during the holidays. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)

HOPE Center provides Healing, Outreach, Prevention and Education to survivors of violence (and their families) in Rice County. I am grateful to the team that staffs HOPE Center, bringing hope and healing. To witness such compassion warms my heart.

Faribault Woolen Mill (now Faribault Mill) blankets/throws artfully hung on a simple pipe in the Faribault retail store in 2012. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2012)

The warmth of compassion also plays out at the Faribault Mill, founded in 1865 as a woolen mill and internationally-known for its quality woolen blankets and other products. For every bed blanket sold, the mill is donating one high quality blanket to nonprofits serving homeless youth in cities across the country. The “Spread the Warmth” initiative has already partnered with 14 nonprofits coast-to-coast, north to south, from Boston to San Francisco, from Minneapolis to Dallas.

Created by a Faribault Lutheran School student in 2013, the feathers list reasons for thankfulness. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo November 2013)

There is reason to feel grateful for all of these efforts, to see just how much love, care and compassion exist. I feel heartened, thankful, uplifted by the real ways in which individuals, businesses, faith communities, nonprofits and more strive to care for others. Hope rises.

Happy Thanksgiving!

TELL ME: What are you especially thankful for this Thanksgiving in your community?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In small ways, we can make a positive difference November 22, 2022

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Photographed several months ago in Pine Island, this scene epitomizes love and care. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)

I’VE FELT IN A RATHER reflective mood recently. Perhaps it’s the shift in seasons. Perhaps it’s the approach of Thanksgiving. Perhaps it’s the deep concern I hold for those who are struggling. In reality, all three and more contribute to these present feelings.

November—with shortened daylight, colder temps and a landscape devoid of color—always brings a noticeable change within me. I prefer snuggling under a fleece throw with a good book in the evenings. I feel more cocooned, not as connected. That’s not necessarily negative, just different.

But what doesn’t change is my awareness that these months of family-centered celebrations can be really hard for some. Not everyone will gather with those held dearest. Geographical distance, death, illness and more separate. I, for one, seldom have my entire family together on holidays given distance and work schedules. Yes, that can be tough when others share about all of their loved ones back home. I’ve learned to feel grateful for the family I do see.

A welcoming message spotted in a downtown Faribault business. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo October 2022)

I’ve found also that focusing on others goes a long way in creating a mindset of care and compassion. A lot of people, at least in my circle, are dealing with a lot right now. Death. Illness. Job loss. Financial struggles. It’s almost overwhelming, the amount of need, the grief, the pain, the trauma.

I can’t fix things, but I can be there in meaningful ways.

This inspiring message on a business in downtown Pine Island uplifted me. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)

We have this capacity, each of us, to make a difference in this world. Not necessarily on a grand scale. But in small ways that touch individuals in our communities, our families, among our friends and beyond. Something as simple as opening a door for a stranger; mailing an encouraging handwritten note; treating people with kindness and respect; dropping off a gift card or a bag of groceries; calling; and listening can make a big impact on someone.

My mom, Arlene, who died in January, taught me the importance of caring for others. As a mother of six, she always put her children first. Beyond our farmhouse, she did the same within her community, volunteering at church, blood drives, veterans-related groups and with other organizations. She left a legacy of love, faith and compassion.

We can all learn a lot from the Arlenes of this world.

Whenever I’m out and about, I feel especially grateful when witnessing the goodness of people. One of those moments came in early September while in Pine Island. Near the Hardware Hank, I watched two women, presumably mother and daughter, walking hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. I nearly cried at observing such love, care and compassion.

A welcoming message on Just Food Co-op in Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)

I celebrate, too, when I see welcoming signs posted at businesses or on homes.

This loving inscription is posted at the State Public School for Dependent and Neglected Children’s Cemetery in Owatonna. The school (orphanage) was open from 1886-1945. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)

Even a message of love imprinted in stone at a cemetery touches me. When I intentionally look for the positive, I see it, hear it, feel it. There truly is more good than bad in this world if we allow the light to break through the grey and outshine the darkness.

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A commentary: Called to help others October 6, 2022

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Seeking help in Monticello. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2022)

THIS MORNING IN READING one of two daily devotionals, I was reminded of the need to help others. The referenced scripture, Leviticus 25: 35-37, published with the October 6 Our Daily Bread devotion, brought back a scene which unfolded recently in Monticello.

On our way home from a short stay at a family member’s central Minnesota lake cabin, I spotted a woman holding a sign along State Highway 25 just before the Interstate 94 overpass. She stood in a center island, at a stoplight, traffic swarming around her. Her sign, with many misspellings, requested help for her and her three children. Help to pay for food and rent. Basic needs.

I felt in that moment a sense of compassion, yet an inability to aid this woman. And, I admit, I also felt a bit of uncertainty, a hesitancy, a questioning of whether she truly was in need. That reaction bothers me. Why couldn’t I simply trust the truthfulness of her request?

That brings me back to Leviticus, chapter 25, verse 35:

If one of your countrymen becomes poor and is unable to support himself among you, help him as you would an alien or a temporary resident, so he can continue to live among you.

That’s a powerful directive. Help him, or in the case of the woman in Monticello, her. Whether you are a person of faith or not, the Bible holds important messages that today fit the definition of “social justice.” Compassion. Mercy. Grace.

Not all of us are in a financial position to assist with gifts of money. But there are many other ways to help our friends, family, neighbors and, yes, even strangers. Encourage via kind and supportive words—written or spoken. I like to send uplifting cards with handwritten notes of encouragement. Pray. Engage in conversation, mostly listening. It’s about taking the focus off ourselves and placing it on others. Educate yourself via reading, attending community events that enlighten and more. Volunteer.

The woman in Monticello, even though I couldn’t aid her, gives me pause to reflect. So many people are struggling. With health issues, relationships, finances, simply trying to meet basic needs. Throw in the current divisiveness in this country, an ongoing pandemic, worldwide threats and conflicts, and the situation can feel overwhelming. Yet, we are all capable of doing something. Of reaching out with compassion and care. Of connecting. Of encouraging, supporting, uplifting in some way, large or small, that shows our humanity.

TELL ME: In what ways have you helped others, whether family, friends or strangers? Specifics are especially welcome.

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on words January 25, 2022

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Magnetic poetry words I strung together and posted on my refrigerator. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2022)

WORDS MATTER. Which we use, how we use them and when. They can hurt. They can uplift. They can communicate a message. They can unite. They can divide. Words are, undeniably, powerful. And sometimes we’re better off not speaking or writing them.

When words are used in anger, in a knee-jerk reaction to something, then the consequences are often negative. “Think before you speak” seems particularly sage advice. Yet, we all forget and fail to filter our thoughts before they slip off our tongues or fingers.

Likewise, I find myself also pondering the depth of words, particularly when asked, “How are you?” More often than not, at least here in Minnesota, that’s a trite question. The expectation is that you will answer, “Fine.” Even if you’re anything but fine. People don’t necessarily want to hear about your problems/struggles/challenges.

But I challenge you the next time you ask, “How are you?”, to ask like you care. And by that I mean pausing, focusing, looking the other person in the eye and picking up on cues that indicate maybe, just maybe, everything isn’t all right. Listen. Take the time to show genuine care without interjecting your story. Empathy is good, but not at the expense of turning the conversation on you.

TELL ME: What thoughts do you have on words, whether written or spoken? What about listening? Is it a lost art?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reflecting on COVID-19 in Rice County August 12, 2021

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From the front page of the April 17, 2020, Faribault Daily News.

ON SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, family and friends of the Rev. Craig Breimhorst will gather to celebrate his life during a long-delayed funeral. This husband, father of three, grandfather of seven, and spiritual and community leader died on April 16, 2020. His death marked the first COVID-related fatality in my county of Rice.

I remember well the shocking headline in the local newspaper: Faribault pastor dies from COVID-19 complications. That singular head and the story that followed shook me and imprinted upon me the seriousness of this virus. This was no longer a virus an ocean away or half a country away in New York. This was here. In Minnesota. In my county. In my community.

MORE THAN NUMBERS, THESE WERE INDIVIDUALS WHO LOVED & WERE LOVED

And now here we are, nearly 1 ½ years later and the virus still rages. Since Breimhorst’s death, an additional 112 Rice County residents have died from COVID. I knew some of those individuals or had connections to them. The most recent death—an individual between the ages of 45-49—was reported on Wednesday.

Still, despite that death count of 113, despite 351 hospitalizations (62 in ICU ranging in age from three months to 95), despite 8,425 cumulative COVID cases (as of Wednesday) in Rice County, there are still doubters. Still anti-vacciners. Still those who refuse to wear masks, or argue/complain about wearing masks. Still those who cannot look beyond themselves and their agendas to the health and safety of their friends, families, neighbors, and, yes, even strangers.

SHOWING WE CARE. OR NOT.

Now more than ever with the highly-contagious and more serious delta variant, we need to care. And take care. Breimhorst’s online obituary ends with this requirement: Everyone not vaccinated of all ages are requested to wear a mask (at the funeral). Among Rice County residents ages 12 and older, 60.7 percent are fully-vaccinated, according to data listed by the Centers for Disease Control. Additional stats show 52.3 percent of the county’s population fully-vaccinated. That leaves a lot of unvaccinated people in Rice County. Too many by choice. And then those under 12 who are not yet eligible for vaccination and have no choice.

PLEASE, WEAR A FACE MASK

Rice County remains in the high community transmission category for COVID. And that is leading our local school district to rethink its “no masks when school starts” stand of just a few weeks ago. The Faribault School Board will vote soon on whether to require masks of staff and students when classes resume. We, as a community, owe it to our kids to protect them, to offer the safest and healthiest environment possible in which to learn. I cannot even fathom why anyone would object to masks to protect our children, especially. But then I can’t fathom either why people refuse vaccination.

A recent article in the Faribault Daily News quotes local student representatives saying that students feel wearing masks “is a small request…if it means staying in school in person.” Additionally, those reps state that vaccine hesitancy “seems to come from parents more than students themselves.” That doesn’t surprise me. Even though I don’t have kids in school, I still care about kids in Faribault.

I feel thankful for businesses, churches and others who are now asking, even requiring, the public (both vaccinated and unvaccinated) to wear face masks in an effort to stop the spread of COVID. Rice County is once again requiring face coverings to be worn in all county government buildings. And, yes, I’m definitely masking in indoor public places, adding another layer of protection to my vaccine protection. I don’t want to get a break-through case of COVID and then perhaps unknowingly spread COVID to my friends, family, neighbors or strangers. I feel a strong sense of personal, social and community responsibility.

I would like to think that I am also honoring the Rev. Craig Breimhorst by masking. A line in his obit reads: With Craig, love always won and love will always win. Those are words to ponder, to take to heart as this pandemic rages, to remember that love is more than a word. It is an action.

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NOTE: If you are anti-vaccine or anti-masking, please do not comment. I moderate all comments and will not give voice to those views on this, my personal blog. My stands on wearing face masks and vaccination are rooted in care. And in love.

© Copyright 2021 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting April 18, 2020

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This quarter-sized token, gifted to me some time ago by my friend Beth Ann, lies on my computer desk.

 

IF YOU’RE LIKE ME, you find yourself reaching out daily to check on family and friends. Now, more than ever, it seems important to connect via mail, email, text, phone calls or video chatting. I need reassurance that people in my life are OK and know they are loved and supported. Likewise, people have done the same for me. And more.

 

Face masks crafted by my blogger friend Penny.

 

Earlier this week I received a package from a Texas blogger. I’ve never met Penny, but we’ve followed each other’s blogs for years and also exchanged emails. Inside the padded envelope I found four cloth face masks. Penny, who is an incredibly kind and loving soul, has been sewing masks for people in her community. And beyond. She also included a lovely card and note. Her gift felt like a hug from across the country.

 

Paul Schell, whom I photographed several years ago painting at the park. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

And yesterday I received an equally lovely note from a Faribault artist who grew up in my native Redwood County. I first met Paul several years ago while photographing artists at a summer evening concert. Paul sat far removed from everyone, quietly painting in a corner of Central Park. Since then, his skills as a watercolor artist progressed. Several years back he gifted me with a print of a destination waterfalls in Redwood Falls. And on the card I received Friday was his watercolor of Moland Lutheran Church, which I’ve written about several times on this blog. The card and accompanying note were unexpected. I must add that Paul mentioned a favorite community cafe, Stacy’s Kitchen in Wabasha, per my post the other day about small town eateries. I so appreciate the time Paul took to gift me with his art and his note.

 

The Warner Press blog page shows some of the most recent posts.

 

Cards are a great way to connect. I’ve always been big on sending cards. Last week “Connecting with Cards” was the topic of my blog post for Warner Press, a Christian publishing company based in Anderson, Indiana. I work remotely as Warner’s blog coordinator. I invite you to click here, read that post and then start your own card outreach/ministry.

 

Encouragement from Beth Ann in a mini card.

 

I have one friend in particular, Beth Ann from North Carolina (I met her when she lived in Iowa), who is especially gifted at uplifting and encouraging others. When our family was going through some really difficult times, she sent me cards and extra encouraging items. What a blessing. I felt so loved.

 

Coloring can be calming and therapeutic.

 

We can all spread the love. I think especially of those in nursing homes. Like my mom on hospice and my father-in-law. We’ve received letters from both care centers about ways these facilities are trying to keep loved ones connected via technology. That won’t work for my mom. But I can still mail cards to her. And I’ve thought of coloring a picture, like I did for my two grandchildren for Easter. Sometimes we need to color outside the lines.

And sometimes we need to go old school by picking up the phone and calling those without technology. Voice to voice so we can hear the laughter, the inflections, the worries, the joys. On Thursday I phoned two aunts—one in Missouri and the other in New Jersey. As our conversation grew to a close, my Aunt Dorothy said, “I love you, My Little Princess.” I felt overcome by emotion at those sweet words. “My Little Princess.” It’s the endearing name Dorothy has called me my entire life. She was the big city aunt who occasionally returned to southwestern Minnesota to visit family. Dorothy arrived with tubes of discarded lipstick and jewelry and arms full of love. She would wrap me in a hug and whisper those endearing words, “I love you, My Little Princess.”

Today please take the time to connect with someone who needs to hear that same message—that they are loved.

 

From the front page of the Faribault Daily News.

 

IN LOVING MEMORY

I dedicate today’s post to the Rev. Craig Breimhorst, who died on Thursday due to complications from COVID-19. A resident of my community of some 24,000, Pastor Breimhorst was the first person in Rice County, Minnesota, diagnosed with the virus. He became ill in mid-March, a day after returning from a trip to the Holy Land. He was the pastor of Christ Lutheran Church in Faribault for 30 years and currently served part-time as pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church, West Concord.

Although I didn’t know Pastor Breimhorst, I have read enough social media comments to see how deeply he was loved and valued as a person and as a pastor. Blessed be his memory.

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Disclaimer: I am paid for my work with Warner Press.

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Reminders to “be still” & the value therein March 4, 2020

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Minnesota Prairie Roots edited file photo December 2017.

 

WHAT DOES IT MEAN to be still?

The answer to that, I suppose, can be far-ranging depending on context. Ask a child to be still and you likely want them to sit quietly. Waiting.

Ask an adult to be still and you likely want them to listen.

Waiting and listening. Both are important in relationships, in communicating, in understanding.

Now take those two words and consider them from a faith perspective. Be still and know that I am God. That scripture, Psalm 46:10, has once again—thrice in the past several days—popped right before my eyes. And I mean that in the literal sense although “popped” may be a bit of a stretch. While reading the book, Red Letter Challenge, for a Lenten series focus at my church, that bible verse showed up on page 19 in the introduction.

Only two days prior I found Psalm 46:10 penned in my handwriting on an envelope buried in a drawer I haven’t looked in for months.

And then, yesterday, I found a bookmark inside Troubled Minds—Mental Illness and the Church’s Mission by Amy Simpson (a book I’d highly recommend) and gifted to me by a dear friend. She’d tucked the bookmark, with the verse, Be still and know that I am God, inside. I read the book months ago. But a recent sermon on the stigmas of mental illness by the pastor at my friend’s church, Emmaus in Northfield, prompted me to pull the Simpson book from the shelf. And then rediscover the be still bookmark. I’d highly recommend you listen to this sermon series about the “no casserole disease.”

But back to Psalm 46:10. I’ve written here previously about that scripture first emphasized to me by my friend Steve. And then soon thereafter, during an especially challenging period in my family’s life, the bible verse just kept showing up. In hymns, devotionals, on a child’s drawing, on a print in the public restroom of my mom’s care center, on a handcrafted paper angel…

Some might call this coincidence. I don’t. As a woman of faith, I believe these words were meant to be imprinted upon my heart. Psalm 46:10 reminds me that even in the midst of chaos, God is here, with me, carrying me through difficult days, encouraging me to be calm, to be still, to understand that I am not alone.

Nor are you alone. As human beings, we all hold the capacity to be there for one another. To sit quietly. To listen. And then, when we can, offer compassion, support, hope and encouragement. To bring the hotdish when no one else does. To love and embrace. To be there.

THOUGHTS?

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

When the holidays are anything but happy December 27, 2018

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An edited photo of a sign promoting kindness as part of The Virtues Trail Project in Faribault. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

THIS PAST YEAR SEVERAL FRIENDS lost loved ones—one to suicide, another to an aggressive cancer, the other to advanced age-related health issues. Friends are battling cancer. Other friends are facing a myriad of challenges.

Christmas is not always easy. It can be downright difficult when you’re missing a loved one or working through something that’s really really tough. I get that. And I hope in some small way that my friends feel my care for them. I’ve reached out with words of comfort, with hugs, with a recognition of their struggles. I don’t pretend that I can erase their grief or solve the issues that are affecting their lives. I simply want them to know that they are not alone, even if they feel alone.

More than ever, it’s important for each of us to step outside of ourselves and recognize that people are hurting. Within our circles of family and friends. It’s important to realize that loss—whether by death or through strained relationships or other factors—hurts. We can ease that hurt by caring. Caring enough to ask, “How are you?” Caring enough to validate an individual’s loss and say, “I’m sorry.” Or “I’m here for you.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort. But it takes that pause, that ability to recognize that saying something is better than remaining silent.

I understand. I’ve heard words of care and support when I needed them. But I’ve heard, too, the loudness of silence.

TELL ME: How do you support family and friends dealing with a loss and/or a difficulty, especially during the holiday season?

© Copyright 2018 Audrey Kletscher Helbling