Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Inspiring words for all of us from President Jimmy Carter’s funeral January 9, 2025

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Encouraging words posted near a garden in the heart of downtown Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

THEIR WORDS WERE MOVING, heartfelt, inspiring. Words that spoke to a selfless, loving, compassionate and kind man. Qualities we should strive to emulate.

It was not lost on me, as I watched the televised funeral of President Jimmy Carter this morning, that some of those attending the service at the National Cathedral in Washington DC have veered far from those traits. When you’re in public office, you are held to higher standards. Or at least you should be. I hope the politicians in the crowd were listening intently.

But I don’t want to get into a political discussion here. Rather, I want to offer a recap of the eulogies that really resonated with me.

A partial quote by civil rights leader and Senator John Lewis displayed on a window in Dundas, Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I was especially impressed with the message delivered by Carter’s grandson Jason Carter. As I listened to this young man speak with such sincerity and eloquence, I thought, he should run for President some day. He spoke of a grandfather who was the same in public as in private, living a life of love and respect. Love. Respect. I can respect a man who, along with his wife, washed and reused plastic bags (as do I), still had a landline with dangling cord (I do) and wore crocs (I don’t). Jason brought laughter to the Cathedral while getting across his strong messages of faith, love and respect.

Peace art by Gracie Molden, Faribault Lutheran School, previously displayed at a student art show at the Paradise Center for the Arts. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Then there’s Ted Mondale who read the eulogy written a decade ago by his father, Vice President Walter Mondale. The stand-out lines written by the elder Mondale were these: that he and Carter “told the truth, obeyed the law and kept the peace.” Those words repeated in my head. I found myself thinking, if only all leaders held to those principles.

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)

President Joe Biden, a long-time friend of Jimmy Carter and likewise a man of faith, focused on strength of character. Carter was, he said, a man of character who treated everyone with dignity and respect. There’s that word again—respect. He called Carter “a practitioner of good works” who followed the guideline of “love thy neighbor as thyself.” That statement followed Biden’s comment that faith requires action. I agree. There’s no doubt Carter lived his faith given his humanitarian work. Carter, Biden said, lived a life filled with the power of faith, hope and love.

From my personal art collection, peace dove art by Jose maria de Servin. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The Rev. Andrew Young, former US ambassador to the United Nations, spoke of a President who grew up as a minority in Sumter County, Georgia, among the majority Black. He celebrated Carter’s ability to get along with everyone, saying the President loved all of God’s children.

Certainly, many additional meaningful words were shared. But these are the messages that struck me as specific, yet broad. Words for all of us. Words that should inspire us to live better, be better.

It was fitting, too, that the gospel reading came from Matthew 5:1-16. That includes The Beatitudes from Jesus’ sermon on the mount and the four verses following. Blessed are…the poor…the meek…the peacemakers… Blessed are those who mourn.

On this national day of mourning for 100-year-old President Jimmy Carter, I feel inspired. Inspired to let my light shine (Matthew 5:16), not in a spotlight-on-me kind of way, but as someone who can light the world by being kind, caring and compassionate. By living a life of love and respect.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The joy of a Northfield tie dye artist September 12, 2024

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My first view of the tie dyed t-shirts. Two days later, I returned and met the artist. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

TIE DYED SHIRTS jolted color against a brown privacy fence along West Seventh Street in Northfield next to Riverside Park on a recent weekday afternoon. The colorful display proved a photographic surprise as I headed for the park.

The shirts have creative designs front and back. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Prices and payment box, on the honor system. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)
Vibrant hues on a heart shirt, one of my favorites. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

Rich, brilliant hues and creative designs instantly drew my attention to this pop-up shop that was as much a place to buy a tee on the honor system as it was an art display.

Artist Rebecca Stull. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

The creative behind the wearable art is Rebecca Stull, who lives in an apartment building behind the fence with her daughter, Lily Joy, age three. I met them two days after I initially spotted and first photographed the tie dye art. I happened to be in Northfield again, same location, aiming for the Northfield Farmers Market in the park. And out came Rebecca and her daughter, the artist carrying bowls of water to set beside the sidewalk for passing dogs.

Rebecca also tie dyed these cute heart onesies. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

I couldn’t believe my luck. To meet Rebecca, to hear her story, excited me. Everyone has a story. Rebecca is new to tie dying, learning as she goes. I would not have guessed that based on the art she produced. She has a two-year online art degree, a good background for creating this art.

A mandala, a favorite design of Rebecca’s. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

This young mother and artist holds a passion for art, for tie dying. She feels a calling, she said, “on a journey to work with Jesus.” That shows in the crosses gracing some of her shirts, including little Lily’s. She also favors mandalas.

Rebecca pulled tees from the fence to show me fronts and backs. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

What I love about Rebecca, besides her tie dye art, is her joy. She exudes positivity, despite struggles. Rebecca shared just enough for me to understand that life hasn’t always been easy for her. But here she is, getting the support she needs, using her creative talents, raising Lily Joy with a joyful spirit.

Rebecca’s storefront, next to her apartment building. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

She told me how thankful she is for a landlord who supports her tie dye creativity.

Lily Joy counts her mom’s t-shirts. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

I encouraged her. It’s clear Rebecca wants the best for her little girl. Some of the monies from her first t-shirt sales paid for Lily Joy to go to the recent Defeat of Jesse James Days carnival. The three-year-old is an enthusiastic marketer of her mom’s tie dyed shirts. As I watched, Lily Joy, walked along the fence line, touching the shirts, counting inventory for her mom.

A cyclist passes Rebecca’s tie dyed t-shirts as he heads to the Northfield Farmers Market on a Friday morning. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo September 2024)

To have met these two blessed me, jolted joy into my day. And it all started with a walk to Riverside Park, 35mm Canon camera in hand.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Prayer ribbons at the Cathedral July 16, 2024

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A garden graces a side entry to The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

AMONG THE FLOWERS, trees and shrubbery fronting a side entry to the space that connects church to guild house, three red benches nestle. Bold. Vibrant. Statement pieces in a garden at The Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour.

Construction on the original part of the Cathedral began in 1862 and was completed in 1869. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

But those benches outside the massive limestone church towering above the landscape along Second Avenue across from Central Park in Faribault serve as more than a place to rest. They are a place for prayers.

Prayer ribbon instructions posted on a bench. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

Ribbons, representing prayers, are tied to the slatted benches. A sign explains: PRAYER CHANGES THINGS. All are welcome. Take and tie a ribbon. Say a prayer or let your ribbon be your prayer.

Choose a ribbon from the bag. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

What a creative idea. A Ziploc bag of multi-colored ribbons hangs on one of the benches. Each hue represents a different prayer. Green for forgiveness. Blue for thanksgiving. Orange for self-control. Pink for kindness. Yellow for patience. Purple for joy.

One of the three garden benches is covered with prayer ribbons. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

These prompts prove soul-searching. Too often prayers focus on needs/wants/desires, not tough topics like forgiveness and self-control. And how often we forget to express gratitude and joy in prayer.

Ribbons representing prayers of joy, kindness and self-control. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

To be reminded of these traits, these feelings, these thoughts can only make us kinder, gentler, better people.

A historical marker at the Cathedral summarizes its history. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)
The Cathedral sign lists community connections. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

That follows a guiding principle of the Cathedral as a place “where history meets heart.” The Cathedral, since it’s founding in the mid-1800s, has long centered on community. Bishop Henry Whipple befriended the Dakota people and many more. Today the church still opens its doors—as the site of the Community Cafe (serving free meals weekly to the community), as a venue for free concerts, as a historic site to tour, as an active participant in Faribault’s annual Heritage Days celebration, as a location for Red Cross blood drives…

Ribbons representing patience, thanksgiving and joy. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

And now this seemingly small, yet powerful thing, this beckoning to ponder and place prayers upon public benches. Prayer changes things. Just as a faith family can, when thoughts and ideas expand into actions. Actions that embrace community, providing a welcoming place to gather, to celebrate, to contemplate life.

An inviting entry garden…with prayer beribboned benches. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo June 2024)

We all hold the capacity to forgive, to thank, to control our thoughts, words and behavior, to practice kindness, to exercise patience, to express joy. If tying a ribbon to a red bench encourages self-reflection and positive change, then that is a good thing. We can always be better, do better, live better, in ways that improve our lives and the lives of those around us.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The power of faith & friendship when facing loss May 9, 2024

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I laid this memorial service folder for my friend Barb upon one of my vintage tablecloths. (Minnesota Prairie Roots May 2024)

WE STOOD SIDE-BY-SIDE, arms stretched around one another, watching as our husbands carried the gray casket and slid it into the waiting hearse. Six friends grieving the death of a seventh.

The day before her 73rd birthday, my friend Barb died from cancer. And here I was a week later, standing outside Trinity Lutheran Church, linked to the women beside me in grief and in love.

My emotions ran high on this beautiful May morning of sunshine and greening spring, of new life rising from the earth on the Monday Barb was laid to rest beneath the earth. I understood she was at peace, in her heavenly home, and that consoled me as tears fell.

Family and friends of Barb were gifted with these nail crosses after her funeral. The cross reinforced the sermon, titled “Nailed It.” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)

Her service was signature Barb, one she planned. One that proclaimed her strong faith in words and in music. Oh, so much music, because Barb loved music. Our friend Steve sang “Who Am I?” Friend Char slid her bow across her violin, accompanying children as they sang “Jesus Loves Me” and later as mourners sang one of my favorite contemporary Christian songs, “10,000 Reasons.” Galen played “Beautiful Savior” on his harmonica, another favorite of mine and of my dear friend Barb. There was more music, so much that Barb wanted, some of which had to be trimmed lest the service got overly long.

Sitting in the front pew, just steps from Barb’s casket, I immersed myself in the service. I laughed when her brother-in-law Dave, the presiding pastor, shared that Barb instructed him to “shake them up” with his sermon. He did. When he spoke of hell and then abruptly stopped and sat down, I wondered if he was so overcome with emotion that he needed to pause. Not so. It was that “shake them up” moment Barb requested. He returned to the pulpit to finish his sermon with loving words of grace.

Our bible study group gifted this garden stone and pansy bowl in Barb’s favorite purple to her family. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo May 2024)

Barb loved her Lord, her family, her friends, old-time TV shows (particularly “Andy Griffith” and “The Beverly Hillbillies”) and the color purple. There was purple everywhere—flowers, ties, dress shirts, table coverings. Purple overflowed alongside love. Love in so many hugs. Love in words spoken by Barb’s eldest son. Love from God. Love surrounding us.

During the final weeks of her life, Barb continued to love on all of us, even as she lay bed-ridden. I would drop off a meal for her family, hoping to uplift my friend. And she uplifted me. She, who was dying. She never let me leave without kissing my cheek. I hold that precious memory now, the warmth of her lips pressed against my skin. To have that time with her to say goodbye eased me into her death. This time was a gift, as Barb’s husband, my friend Mike, reminded me, reminded all of us.

A loving message from Barb, printed in her memorial folder.

Barb gave so much, even in choosing the men who would carry her casket—Randy, John, Steve, Noel, Mark and Jeff. All of us friends, together in a long-time Bible study group. Twenty years of reading and studying God’s Word, of praying for one another, of growing in our faith and friendship. We have been through a lot together. Uplifted one another.

And here we were on this lovely spring morning, walking into church together behind the casket, behind the cross. Filling two pews at the front of the church. Listening and singing and crying and laughing. And then later filing out, waiting silently in the narthex, then outside. Reverently.

As the six guys moved toward the casket, we wives gathered on the side and I instinctively motioned for Debbie, Jackie, Mari, Mandy and Sonja to come closer. I needed to feel their closeness, the strength that comes from love and friendship in shared grief. It was a powerful and emotional moment standing together in a row, arms wrapped around one another. I felt Barb’s love embracing us. I heard her words, too: I thank Him for each of you. Our family and friends, I love you!

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NOTE: I will miss my friend Barb and other loved ones I’ve lost in 2024: Uncle Robin; my brother-in-law Dale; and Aunt Jeanette. This has been a season of grief.

 

Easter morning March 31, 2024

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My favorite Easter hymn. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

EASTER MORNING DAWNS with the sunshine of God’s love. I believe this to be true.

I know that my Redeemer lives!

Have a blessed Easter, dear readers!

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The art of rural Minnesota churches March 28, 2024

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Christdala Swedish Lutheran Church, rural Millersburg. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo August 2020)

IN MY BACKROADS travels around Minnesota, I’ve often stopped at churches, drawn by their history, architecture and art. Churches are, to me, more than houses of worship. They are also galleries, museums, centers of praise and grief and joy.

Inside Vang Lutheran Church, rural Dennison, a depiction of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2014)

There’s almost something holy about stepping inside a church, into the quiet of a space graced by colorful stained glass windows, religious sculptures, pews worn by the hands of many.

Trinity Lutheran Church, Wanamingo. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2016)

I feel a sense of reverence in the light, in the stillness, in the peace that fills an empty sanctuary. I feel centered. Calm. Enveloped by the sheer beauty surrounding me.

Inside St. Michael’s Catholic Church in Buckman in Morrison County, stained glass art shows Jesus carrying His cross. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2021)

That beauty often emanates from the art. Stained glass windows, designed and built by skilled artisans, add a dimension of sacredness that appears heavenly when sunlight streams through glass.

Jesus’ crucifixion depicted in a stained glass window inside Holden Lutheran Church, rural Kenyon. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2016)

Themed to history, those windows visually tell stories written within the bible. Many focus on Holy Week: The Last Supper. Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. The crucifixion of Jesus. And then His glorious resurrection on Easter morning.

This statue of Mary grieving the loss of her son shows deep emotion. It’s inside St. Mary’s Catholic Church, New Trier. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2017)

Sculptures, too, depict the same in life-size statues.

Hands convey so much love in intimate details in this sculpture of Mary holding Jesus’ hand. Photographed at St. Mary’s Catholic Church, New Trier. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2017)

Sacred and religious art is powerful. It evokes emotions. Inspires. Uplifts. Gives reason to pause and reflect.

This shows a snippet of the center stained glass window in a trio above the altar at Trinity Lutheran Church, Wanamingo. It depicts Christ’s resurrection. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2016)

This Holy Week, as my thoughts turn more reflective and inward, I feel deep gratitude for the long ago faithful who created the stained glass windows, the sculptures and other art adorning churches. These works of art are worthy of our attention, our appreciation, no matter religious affiliation or not.

A full view of the altar painting by A. Pederson inside Moland Lutheran Church, rural Kenyon. It’s based on Matthew 11: 28 – 30. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened…” (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo June 2013)

I can only imagine how many eyes have focused on the art within sanctuary walls. During baptisms. During weddings. During funerals. And during worship services. Joy. Comfort. Peace. Blessings. They’re there, all there, within the art within these sacred spaces.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Grieving Arlene March 19, 2024

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Among the many sympathy cards I received when my mom died in January 2022. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2022)

IN THE TWO YEARS and two months since my mom died, I have not cried much over losing her. Not at her funeral, held at the height of omicron in a church packed with mostly unmasked mourners. Not at the cemetery. Not once have I fully-wept.

It’s not that I don’t feel her loss deeply. I do. Some Sunday evenings I still want to pick up my phone and call her, as was my routine up until she could no longer manage even that. Now my son typically calls me on Sundays from his home in Boston, a gift to me in more ways than he can imagine.

Me with my mom during a January 2020 visit. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo January 2020 by Randy Helbling)

The day before his last call, on a Saturday afternoon, the grief I’d tucked inside over my mom’s death spilled out. Everything came together in an emotional moment at my friend Arlene’s funeral. I missed Mom with the fierceness only a daughter can feel.

A section of Arlene Rolf’s memorial folder. (Minnesota Prairie Roots photo March 2024)

My mom’s name was Arlene. And I think that started the torrent of emotions I felt as I grieved the other Arlene, mother to Will and Karen and Steve. My friend. An artist. A woman of faith and compassion and kindness. So like my own mother, except for the creativity.

This is just a small part of Arlene Rolf’s “Creation” batik art, photographed from the cover of her funeral service worship folder. (Art copyrighted by Arlene Rolf; photo by Minnesota Prairie Roots, March 2024)

As I opened the worship folder graced with Arlene Rolf’s “Creation” batik art, I noticed first the selected scripture readings. Familiar. Meaningful. Joshua 1:8-9, verse 9 being my Confirmation verse: Be strong and courageous…for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

And then Romans 8:28-30. Verse 28 has always been a favorite bible passage: …in all things God works for the good of those who love him. That scripture, like Joshua 1:9, has carried me through many challenges in life.

“The Good Shepherd” framed print was a wedding gift to my parents. It hung in their bedroom and then in my mom’s care center room until her death. I now have this treasured piece of art. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Finally, I read the gospel lesson from John 10:7-15 about the good shepherd and his sheep. It was, I was certain, the same section of scripture read at my mom’s 2022 funeral. Later I would confirm the overlapping of verses chosen for the funerals of the two Arlenes.

My parents’ tombstone in the Vesta Cemetery in southwestern Minnesota. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)

I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in God moments. And I was experiencing those as I mourned my friend Arlene on March 9. I held it together, through all the bible readings, liturgy and songs, until several of Arlene’s grandchildren clustered together to sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Their pure, sweet voices, minus any instrumentals, carried such emotion. It was as if a band of angels were welcoming their grandmother, my friend, into heaven. It was too much. I felt tears brimming my eyes, then sliding down my cheeks as I thought of my own dear mother welcomed into the loving arms of Jesus on January 13, 2022.

In that moment I grieved.

© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An encouraging message meant for me July 14, 2023

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A found message. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo July 2023)

CALL IT SERENDIPITY, coincidence, even divine intervention. But when I spotted a white stone in a flowerbed at Faribault’s Central Park recently, then flipped the stone to read the words, have faith, I felt with certainty this message was meant for me.

I needed these encouraging words. It’s been a long past several months as I deal with ongoing challenging health issues that sometimes leave me feeling hopeless and in tears. It’s a lot, these layered diagnoses of vestibular neuronitis, Menerie’s Disease and peripheral sensory neuropathy. When symptoms flare, which is often, I wonder if I will ever be myself again. And every time a new symptom arises, I wonder why my body is seemingly under siege. Definitive answers and solutions feel elusive.

Yet, if I reflect on this journey, I can see improvements in balance and my ability to handle sensory input. I attribute those to 3.5 months of vestibular rehab therapy and the prayers of many. Have faith. Those two words are powerful, filled with hope. Hope for better days, better health, a return to life as I once lived it.

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THANK YOU to you, my blog readers, for your gifts, cards, prayers and words of encouragement. Every caring word and act of kindness uplifts me and makes me feel, oh, so loved. I am grateful for your support, care and concern.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating 75 years of radio ministry at Trinity, Faribault April 27, 2023

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Signage indicating the Trinity service is airing. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

DURING THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC, when I wasn’t attending worship services at my church, Trinity Lutheran, Faribault, I switched on the radio. In the safety and shelter of my home, I listened to Sunday morning worship services broadcast on Faribault-based KDHL radio. I was grateful for the AM listening option. I could have watched live-streaming. But I preferred the less distracting radio delivery.

Vintage switches inside the Trinity Radio Club booth. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

Eventually, I returned to in-person worship. But today I’m back tuning the radio to 920 AM at 8 am Sunday because of a health issue that leaves me sensory sensitive and more. I can’t tolerate the sound of the organ or the multi-layered sensory input of being among people in a busy environment.

The original microphone used in 1948. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

That’s the backstory behind my personal appreciation of the Trinity Radio Club, which has broadcast church services for 75 years, first airing on April 25, 1948. That’s remarkable in longevity, in decades of sharing the Gospel initially via the air waves and then via live-streaming and other online platforms.

The early transmitter. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

This weekend, April 29 and 30, the Trinity Radio Club celebrates its 75th anniversary during worship and during a special program between Sunday morning services. It’s important to commemorate and honor the work of long ago visionaries who embraced a radio ministry. They initially pledged $5/each toward the effort and also committed to paying 35 cents weekly to support the broadcasts. That doesn’t seem like much money today. But I expect it was a sacrifice in 1948, when the first broadcast cost $46.

The original coverage area for KDHL radio, which began broadcasting in 1948. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

Throughout its 75 years, the Trinity Radio Council (today the Trinity Radio Club) has remained strong in its mission of reaching people with the good news of salvation, whether locally or an ocean away. The club has continued to upgrade technology, to make improvements that assure uninterrupted transmission of services via radio and online. Unlike many churches during the COVID pandemic, Trinity was already up and running with a strong, safe and viable way of reaching and connecting with people outside the walls of the sanctuary.

Vintage radio room art centers on Christ. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

For awhile, Randy and I (mostly Randy) were part of the club’s mission. Once a month, sometimes more, Randy would take a DVD of the 8 am worship service to a local nursing home. Sometimes I accompanied him. He would lead part of the service and then play the sermon part of the recording for residents. Many of them slept through the entire thing. But, yet, when Randy led them in The Lord’s Prayer, they would join in. No memory issues. No sleepiness. Just a roomful of the faithful praying.

The operations tech hub inside the radio studio at Trinity in 2018. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

That word “faithful” seems appropriate to insert here. Generations have committed to maintaining and expanding the Trinity Radio Club ministry. That comes via financial support and volunteering. When our tech-savvy son was in high school, he volunteered. Every broadcast and streamed service requires people in the soundproof studio working the computer, the switches, all the tech stuff I don’t understand.

A view from the studio overlooking the sanctuary in 2018. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

But I understand one thing. I understand the importance of this ministry personally. When I can’t be in church, and there are others just like me, I can still be there.

Gratitude on the screen, Trinity sanctuary in the background. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2018)

I am grateful to those individuals who saw the need for a radio broadcast 75 years ago. I am grateful for the continuing expansion via technology. I am grateful for a congregation which financially and otherwise supports the Trinity Radio Club. I am grateful for listeners who also donate. It takes a joint effort, a team, dedication and hard work. And for the initial founders of the Trinity Radio Council, it took a vision based on faith to launch this ministry which has blessed so many, including me, during its 75-year history.

FYI: To learn more background on the Trinity Radio Club, click here to read a post I published in 2018 on the 70th anniversary of this ministry.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts following the funeral of slain Pope County, Minnesota, Deputy Josh Owen April 24, 2023

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Josh Owen with his canine partner. (Photo credit: Pope County Sheriff’s Department)

Let us go forth in peace.

Those final words from the Rev. Bryan Taffe, pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Lowry in western Minnesota, concluded a Saturday morning funeral service for Pope County Deputy Josh Owen, shot and killed April 15 while responding to a call of domestic violence. Taffe’s message and final blessing comforted me as I watched TV coverage of the deputy’s funeral some 180 miles northwest of Faribault in Glenwood.

I didn’t know the law enforcement officer killed on his 44th birthday. But, collectively, as a state, we knew Josh. He was described by speakers as hardworking, a common sense individual, calm under pressure, a family man… The kind of guy you would want having your back, whether on the battlefields of Iraq or in rural Pope County, Minnesota.

“ALWAYS PICK JOSH”

Lt. Col. John Anderson of the Minnesota National Guard served as Josh’s platoon leader during a 22-month deployment, including 16 months in Iraq. He shared of his soldier’s selfless heroism. Anderson learned early on to “always pick Josh.” He could count on him to handle dangerous situations, including the rescue of a severely-injured soldier in what he described as “a killing zone.”

An emotional Pope County Chief Deputy Nathan Brecht echoed Anderson’s theme of relying on and trusting that Josh could handle anything. His physical bulk proved invaluable. Yet, he held a tender side, showing compassion to a suicidal man and encouragement to a young woman in the throes of drug addiction.

PERSONAL INSIGHTS

As I listened to Anderson, Brecht and his cousin by marriage, Josh Palmateer, a clear picture began to emerge of Josh Owen. For me that was important, to begin to understand the man behind the badge, the man behind the headlines. The husband of Shannon, father to 10-year-old Rylan, friend, co-worker, son, cousin…protector.

Josh had a distinct laugh, pulled pranks with his fellow soldiers, had an insatiable thirst for Mountain Dew, loved lifting weights, hated doing paperwork. His motto: “Don’t start sh*t you can’t finish.”

I embraced Chief Deputy Brecht’s poetically descriptive image. When he sees a crack of lightning and hears a roll of thunder, he will think of Josh. Campfires and fishing and drinking an IPA will also remind him of the guy he could count on.

LOVE & GRATITUDE

At times, I wondered if the grieving deputy would make it through his remembrances of Josh. But he did, and with an important message. He vowed to tell his co-workers that he appreciates and loves them. Brecht regrets not doing that with Josh. He thanked the community for its outpouring of support, sharing that “every act of kindness sustains us.” And he referenced one of my favorite bible verses, Romans 8:28: All things work together for good to those who love God… Admittedly, Brecht said finding the good in Josh’s tragic death is not easy. But he said he’s gotten to know the family better and understands the importance of expressing love, aloud, to others. Like Brecht, I firmly believe that something good comes in every challenge, although it can take awhile to see that. For me, the good has often emerged in empathy, compassion and, yes, reaching out with kindness.

More scripture was quoted at the funeral held in the Minnewaska Area High School gymnasium packed with mourners, including hundreds of law enforcement officers. Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. By the time Josh Palmateer quoted Joshua 1:9, I was not surprised. That is my Confirmation verse, words that embolden me to trust.

BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS

As the memorial service closed with a message by the Lutheran pastor, I felt joined in grief to the 4,000-plus mourners in that rural high school gymnasium. I felt connected and comforted. As a Christian, I appreciated the clergy’s hopeful message of eternal life. I appreciated, too, his reference to The Beatitudes, recorded in Matthew 5. Most of us know them: Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted…Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God… But Rev. Taffe explained the blessed part in a way that I’d not previously grasped. “You may not be feeling blessed,” he told the crowd. He then went on to explain that being blessed in grief “means God is showing favor on you…in deep sadness you are in God’s hands more than any other time.” That resonated with me, deep within my soul.

When the funeral service and TV coverage ended simultaneously at noon, I felt emotionally drained. But I also felt better for having learned about Josh Owen—the deputy and the man—and better for having heard inspirational messages. Calls to express love, to realize that we can unite collectively, give me hope.

Let us go forth in peace.

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FYI: Click here to read Josh Owen’s obituary and how you can support the family via The Josh Owen Memorial Fund.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling