GraceNotes A publication for sharing God’s love

June 2012

Father’s Hands My Dad, some ninety plus years now, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn’t move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. I sat down beside him. He didn’t acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was okay. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was okay. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking,” he said in a strong voice. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Dad, but you were just sitting there staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” “Have you ever looked at your hands?” he asked. “I mean really looked at your hands?” I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands, as I tried to

figure out the point he was making. Dad smiled and related this story: “Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They wiped my tears when my son went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold you as a newborn daughter. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn’t understand. They have covered my face, combed my

hair, washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else on me works real

well, these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I’ve been and the ruggedness of my life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when He comes to take me again. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.” After that day, I will never look at my hands the same again. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife, I think of Dad. I know when Christ comes Dad will be stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. ~ Author Unknown

The Pastor’s Pen Legacy...... June has Father’s Day right in the middle. I don’t have to worry about it much. Any thoughts about honoring my father are about what to put on his grave. That leaves me looking in the other direction. What kind of father have I been the last year? Have my children seen modeled what a heavenly Father is like? Matthew 5:18 “Be ye perfect, just like your Father in heaven is perfect,” is not just humbling, it is embarrassing. My children are junior high school age. All the possibilities are yet in front of them, but they are coming of age. In my opinion they may not need Daddy as much, but they sure do need a father. I want my children to reach for the stars, to be all they can be, to

dream big and follow that dream. I want them to use their spiritual gifts to each be a blessing to God and man, and I want them to hear God say to them one day “Well done, thou good and faithful servant . . .” My dream for my children is they be persons of value and persons of worth and friends to God and man. I sure hope and believe it is nature’s God who instilled this dream in me for my children, which means these wants for my children are in fact my marching orders. My job as a father includes keeping a roof over my children’s heads and food on the table, but it is so much more than this. My job is teacher, caretaker, mentor, advisor,

example, encourager, refiner and so much more. To the fathers, fathers of all ages, fathers whose children are all ages, this Father’s Day is your annual checkup day. What is the roll of father for my children at this stage of their lives? How am I doing at that roll? “Be ye perfect like your heavenly Father” is still in the Bible regardless what age our children. As long as God gives us breath that is still our job, to present God the Father in His perfect light. Be the father your kid deserves to show them what God the Father is like. That is still the marching order.

When you feel like you’re drowning in life, don’t worry ~ your Lifeguard walks on water. Our purpose, by God’s grace, is to reflect His character in our community, to demonstrate a quality of life that attracts all to be reconciled to Him, and to present inspirational material in a manner that will encourage people to be loving, maturing disciples of Jesus Christ. First service begins at 8:15 am followed by Sabbath School at 9:30 each Saturday morning. Second service begins at 10:45 am. To find the church, travel about 1.5 miles east from I-26 on Hwy 280 (Airport Road). Our staff welcomes your comments and inquiries about the programs and ministries of the church. Regular church office hours are Monday-Thursday, 9:00-5:00, Friday 9:00-12:00. Gail Bremner, editor......................................................685-9915 Larry Cottrell, technical editor.......................................551-3887 Carla Butcher, reporter...................................................693-3396 Jean Davey, reporter .................................................... 891-2814

Max Hammonds, reporter.............................................. 242-1100 Jim Hakes, senior pastor............................................... 272-0131 Church email [email protected]

inging His Praises The Women I Met Last Monday Chronic pain. Infertility. Loneliness. Financial insecurity. Illness. All of these issues and more are part of the daily life of the women I met last Monday night. A friend invited me to speak a word of encouragement to the women from her church, and she graciously offered to translate for me! I agreed...and then I panicked. I wondered what in the world I might have to share with women in a country where war is a not-so-distant memory and drug addiction, infidelity, and domestic violence are ever-present realities. As I prayed, God reminded me of some significant truths. First, sin is sin no matter what country, culture, or language we’re in. Every day we are faced with the evidence of a lost Eden. We see it in the news, in our communities, in our relationships, and we see it in our own hearts. We are a sinful, broken people living in a dying world, and it hurts. Second, our only hope is in

Prayer Requests

God. Regardless of our history or our current events, only God is trustworthy. Our future is only secure in him. His power and goodness are displayed even in, or perhaps especially in, the brokenness around us. Third, by focusing on the source of our hope, God, we can have a different view of our circumstances. Rather than looking at the mess around us and seeing only an ever-worsening future, we can look through the mess to our loving and faithful Heavenly Father. Our circumstances may not change, but our focus can. The character of God gives us plenty to ponder. Many of the women in the group shared that they were most encouraged by meditating on God’s love for them, his power and faithfulness, his kindness and patience, and mostly his willingness to offer them salvation. While I didn’t offer them any solutions to the problems that

plague their society, I was able to invite them to look beyond the problems to their Great Provider. They were encouraged as we explored Psalm 13 and Habakkuk 3:17-18, remembering who God is in spite of our circumstances. And I was encouraged as I listened to them declare His goodness in their current realities. As my husband, Paul, and I get to know this city more, we want to see beyond the brokenness to our healing God. While we cry out in pain or frustration because of our circumstances, we also remember to praise Him for who He is, and to speak out those aspects of His character that apply to our situation. Praise God for how He meets each need, how He shepherds His people, and how He lavishes His love on us. I look forward to seeing how He might continue to manifest Himself to the people of Serbia, and most especially to the women I met last Monday. ~ Jody Hovda in Novi Sad, Serbia

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Family Ties What’s Fatherhood About?

One morning last October, my husband Brent rose at 4:30 A.M. to shoulder one of the most frightening responsibilities a parent can have-he was about to drive our 16-year-old son, TJ, through the pre-dawn darkness to the Navy Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. TJ was scheduled to undergo major abdominal surgery at 6 A.M. After dropping our younger son at school at 8:15, I drove nervously through rush-hour traffic to the hospital, arriving just as TJ was being wheeled back to his room. Naturally, the first thing his dad and I did was take a close look to make sure TJ was still alive. (Has any parent ever completely trusted even the most skilled surgeon not to accidentally kill his child?) TJ looked pale and groggy, disheveled and confused. Pushing the gurney into a corner, a cheerful and chatty male nurse carefully lifted TJ to his feet and settled him onto the bed. We gently touched his face and spoke to him reassuringly to make sure he knew we were there, and that it was all over. Then we sat down to wait, our parental anxiety gradually receding into the background. An hour went by. TJ was becoming more wakeful and feeling some pain. The surgeon came in to check him and announce that our son was ready to go home. Brent stood up and pulled shut a curtain designed to swing in a U-shape around the bed to provide a bit of privacy. I sat and listened. I heard the rustle of clothing and gentle words of encouragement. It was evident my husband was dressing TJsomething he had not done since our sixfoot teenager was a six-year-old child.

My gaze traveled downward, attracted by movement. Beneath the abbreviated curtain, I saw my husband’s khaki-covered knees appear. He was kneeling on the floor to put on TJ’s socks and sneakers. I was suddenly reminded of Christ getting down on His knees to wash the feet of His disciples, illustrating, through soap, water, and a rough towel, that a true leader is a servant. I was overwhelmed with love for my husband-love and gratitude. Most fathers I know would lay down their lives for their childrenjust as Christ laid down His life for His flock. But how many dads follow Christ’s other example? How many of them willingly, unthinkingly, get down on their knees to serve children who have grown bigger than they? Much of what we read in the stories of the Old Testament patriarchs is about what it means to be a father; about a man joining with a woman in the hard work of rearing children. While most men are capable of sacrifice, willing to go out in a blaze of glory, it’s much tougher to accept domestication, teaching and serving one’s children. After all, if you forfeit your life in one glorious act, statues will be erected in your memory. But devote yourself to caring for your childrenshowing up for daily doses of nosewiping, diaper-changing and T-shirt washing (on top of trudging off to work each day)-well, statues for men who do these things are few and far between. Most of the time, God doesn’t ask fathers to throw themselves in front of speeding bullets-or trains, or cars-to save their children. Instead, He asks fathers to serve their children in thousands of

mundane, day-to-day ways. Most of the time, fatherhood is a series of little gestures-such as getting down on one’s knees on a hospital floor to put sneakers on a child in pain. I knew before we had kids that my husband, who spent many years as an Army officer, would have had no trouble doing the heroic, jump-on-a-live-grenade stuff. But he’s also really good at the servanthood stuff on the home front. Whenever he leaves on a business trip, he fills my car with gas, stuffs money into my purse, and does the laundry. Why? Because he knows I usually wait until I’m running on fumes before I pull into a gas station, run around without cash, and let the laundry pile up. In similar small but meaningful ways, he serves our children. TJ is fully recovered now, but I still think about that day in the hospital, especially the moment I watched my husband get down on his knees to serve our son. It’s the sort of thing a son will likely remember when he becomes a father himself, and is tempted, out of tiredness or busyness or boredom, to settle for doing the selfish thing instead of the sacrificial thing. And that, toosetting a manly example-is part of being a good and godly father. Jesus told His disciples: “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Though I’m a devout Christian, I’m tempted to contradict the Lord on this point. As a wife and mother, I can’t help thinking that sometimes, the greatest love of all-for a dad-is a willingness to sacrifice all the days and months and years of his life in service to his family. I want to say to my own husband: Thank you. And I love you.

Unfinished Symphonies Trust the Bridge Builder? Thanks is what builds trust. I cross over a bridge. The Maitland River curls glassy, barns along both banks. I cross the bridge, and the river’s a ribbon of silver slipping under the bridge like a thread passing through the eye of a needle. And in that moment, another strand of eucharisteo (thanksgiving) slips through the eye of my soul. Who trusts the Bridge Builder? How do you count on life when the hopes don’t add up? The hopes don’t have to add up. The blessings do. I want to slam on the brakes right then and there on a side road in Howick Township, the light blinding. Count the blessings and discover Who can be counted on. Isn’t that what had been happening, quite unexpectedly? This living a lifestyle of intentional gratitude became an unintentional test in the trustworthiness of God— and in counting blessings I stumbled upon a way out of fear. Can God be counted on? Count blessings and find out how many of His bridges have already held. Had I not trusted all these years because I had not counted? I glance back in the mirror to the concrete bridge, the one I’ve boldly driven straight across

without second thought, and I see truth reflecting back at me. Every time fear freezes and worry writhes, every time I surrender to stress, aren’t I advertising the unreliability of God? That I really don’t believe? But if I’m grateful to the Bridge Builder for the crossing of a million strong bridges, thankful for a million faithful moments, my life speaks my beliefs and I trust Him again. I fearlessly cross the next bridge. I shake my head at the blinding wonder of it: Trust is the bridge from yesterday to tomorrow, built with planks of thanks. Remember frames up gratitude. Gratitude lays out the planks of trust. I can walk the planks—from known to unknown—and know: He holds. I could walk unafraid. Is that why the Israelites kept recounting their past—to trust God for their future? Remembering is an act of thanksgiving, a way of thanksgiving, this turn of the heart over time’s shoulder to see all the long way His arms have carried. “Gratitude is the memory of the heart,” writes Jean Baptiste Massieu, but gratitude is not only the memories of our heart; gratitude is a memory of God’s heart and to thank is to remember God. ~ Taken from “One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp

No-Bake Cookies Ingredients 2 cups old fashion oats (original recipe called for 1 cup coconut, 1 cup oats, but I substituted) 1/2 cup peanut butter (I used organic – the kind that has JUST peanuts) 1/3 raw honey (doesn’t really have to be raw) 1/2 cup of chocolate chips (I chopped them, to make them go through out more of the mixture) 1 tsp vanilla Directions Put all the ingredients in a bowl and mix. You then put the mixture in the fridge for 30 minutes to cool. If you’re going powerless, you can skip this, it will just make the mixture tougher to make balls out of. That’s when you just grab a spoon and eat the mixture right out of the bowl. After the mixture is cool, roll into balls. Store in an airtight container in the fridge – if they last that long.

Tuning Fork Aspirin, the 100-Year-Old Medicine Dr. Ron Atchison, internist, waited outside his patient’s room while the current group of medical students and residents filed out behind him. He motioned them to follow him down the hall to a small conference room. When they had all crowded in, he spoke. “This is just for the medical students. The rest of you hold your peace,” he said. His chief resident and the first year resident smiled at each other and settled in the corner chairs. “Okay, any one, what did you see in there, just now?” Dr. Atchison leaned against the wall, eyeing the medical students. Mary Hall, a fourth year student spoke up. “A 67-year-old female with episodes of non-cardiac chest pain, probably esophagitis based on her rapid response to antacids and repeat negative cardiac enzymes, hypertension, high cholesterol and triglycerides, border-line high blood sugar and mildly obese . . . and . . .” Mary paused, knowing there was something more she should say. “Very good, Dr. Hall. Very well summarized.” Dr. Atchison paused. “But there is one more significant piece to her story.” He looked around. “Dr. Martin.” He spotted the tall, shy third year student behind the others near the door. “Dr. Martin, this is the patient you worked up, I believe. Tell us what the final piece is, please.” “Yes, sir.” Dr. Martin flipped open the patient’s chart, referring to his notes. “Her father, brother and uncle all died of coronary heart disease and her mother died of colon cancer.” “Very good. The positive family history. This is a patient to be watched closely. Why is that, Dr. Hall?” Dr. Atchison eyed his favorite fourth-year student.

“Because her chest pain might one day actually be a cardiac episode. Cardiac disease in females is so frequently missed. Females present with different symptoms.” Dr. Mary Hall paused. “We somehow seem to think that heart attacks happen only in men.” “Very good. Excellent.” Dr. Atchison nodded his approval as he reached for the patient’s chart to sign the orders written by the attending nurse. “Sir, if you please, I have a question,” Mary Hall said, “about your orders.” “Yes?” Dr. Atchison’s eyebrows arched upward. “You didn’t order aspirin, sir. You gave her medicines for her high blood pressure and her high cholesterol. You ordered diabetic and weight control counseling. But you didn’t order a low dose aspirin. And I was wondering why.” Dr. Atchison slowly closed the chart. “Hmm. Our old friend, aspirin. Yes, we usually give a baby aspirin, 81 mg, to our heart patients.” He eyed her carefully. “Is she a heart patient?” “Yes, sir. She has a family history and several major risks factors for heart disease and for the possibility of stroke,” Dr. Hall concluded. “And aspirin prevents some cancers, yes?” “Dr. James.” The first year resident quickly roused from his slouched position. “Dr. James, in whom is aspirin proven to be effective?” “In those at high risk for heart disease,” Dr. James shot back. “Those who have had a heart attack, who have stents, or who have had a non-bleed stroke. In these patients aspirin has been proven to significantly prevent another episode.” “But what about those with major

risk factors but not an actual heart attack or stroke. Do we give these patients aspirin?” “I know that aspirin is not appropriate for people with little or low heart disease risk. It does not prevent heart disease in those at low risk and aspirin has significant side effects.” Dr. James looked puzzled. “But I’m not sure what it does for those at moderate risk.” “Dr. Stewart, what do you know about patients with risk factors but no actual heart attack, those at moderate risk?” The chief resident sat up straight. “A recent study demonstrated that low dose aspirin was helpful in only 20 % of the patients at moderate risk. But more than 30% of them got significant side-effects from the aspirin, mainly gastrointestinal bleeding. In the patient we just saw, the risks for bleeding are probably higher than the chance for benefit. Especially with her esophagitis, it’s too risky to give her aspirin.” “And what about the prevention of cancer, Dr. Stewart?” Dr. Atchison asked. “All we have are observational studies in aspirin and cancer, sir. There is no hard evidence yet that aspirin prevents any cancers. It is inappropriate at this time to be giving aspirin to prevent cancer, especially with all the side effects of aspirin, only one of which is bleeding.” “Thank you. An excellent question, Dr. Hall. An excellent response from our residents. All in all, an excellent teaching day.” Dr. Atchison smiled and started for the door. “Oh, Dr. Hall.” He paused. “Come see me in my office this afternoon. I would like to talk with you about being one of our residents next year.” ~ Max Hammonds, MD

Family Focus Bill and Carol Onuska are long time members of our Arden Church family. Carol was born in Detroit, Michigan. Her dad always told her she was born just in time for Sabbath School at 9:17 am. She went to public school for grades 1-6 then attended Southfield Junior Academy, which had just been started, for grades 7-10. She attended Adelphian Academy for grades 11 and 12. Her father was a painter and paperhanger and her mom was a homemaker. After academy she took pre-nursing at Emanuel Missionary College, now Andrews University, and went on to Hinsdale Hospital School of Nursing, graduating in 1957. She attended Columbia Union College, now Washington Adventist University, graduating in 1964 with her Bachelors degree and then received her Masters degree through Central Michigan University extension school. The classes were held on various military bases with most of her class work at Walter Reed Hospital. She married in 1957 and had two children, Michelle (Chelle) and Kevin, who also attends the Arden Church. She and Bill met through a mutual friend and were married in 1979. Bill graduated from Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Oregon with a Bachelors Degree in Business Administration. He was raised in Western Pennsylvania. A few weeks short of his graduation from high school, he enlisted in the Navy and had his mom pick up his diploma from the high school. He served in the South Pacific during WWII, injuring his leg on coral there and developed gas gangrene which put him in a military hospital in New York for a year. He has always been very patriotic and is a member of the Disabled Veterans of America. He will only buy Amerian made cars. Bill’s first wife died in an accident when their youngest child was nine months old and Bill raised his three children, Bill Jr, Jim and Pam, by himself until the baby was 12 when he married Carol after a four month courtship. They lived in Maryland and he worked at Montgomery Ward in management and sales, retiring here in 1986. Carol worked as Director of Nursing at Leland Memorial Hospital in Riverdale, Maryland, for 16 years. Since moving to this area, she worked at Pardee Hospital on the cardiac unit until she retired four years ago. Carol’s hobbies are traveling and needlepoint. Bill was extremely handy and built the addition on their home entirely by himself. He has been a pilot, and is experienced in plumbing, brick laying, carpentry, upholstering and electrical work. 3 Brianna Pettit 19 Casey Harwell 19 Robbie Hakes 3 C. D. Huskins They have traveled to Africa three times, as well as India, Russia, 4 Hunter Kirkpatrick 19 Ruth MacEntee Costa Rica, Czechoslovakia and Honduras on mission trips. They have 4 Tyler Kirkpatrick 19 Cheryl Rubin also traveled to Australia, New Zealand, China, Singapore and Hong 5 Denise Pettit 19 C. Carter 5 Josiah Watkins 19 Heather Jarrett Kong, and Bali. They have also enjoyed several cruises. 20 Verba Champ 6 Gary Lewis Bill’s health has slowed down in recent years, but he has enjoyed 6 Pen Braister-Sturgis 20 Andy Braister-Sturgis serving as a deaon at the church and Carol has been one of our organists 21 Bruce Davis 8 Noah Collins 8 Tommy Ware 22 Samuel Jarrett for many years and is also one of the cashiers. 9 Charlie Warner 23 Esther Watterson Thank you Bill and Carol for your many dedicated years of serving 10 Shirley Wallstrom 25 Savannah Lemons God here in Arden, as well as around the world. 27 Jeannette Wetmore 12 Rick Platt

June Birthdays

Faith is the bridge between where I am and where God is taking me. Whether that bridge looks sturdy and strong or too uncertain to hold the weight of this world-I step forward trusting that He will guide me safely across.

12 13 14 14 14 16 18 18

Becky Hodges Daniel Atkins Alden Minnick Tim Tullock Danielle Keene Arno Bohlmann Diane Fuller Reshae Keating

27 27 28 28 30 30

Tore Ingulfsen Thea Sabartinelli David Brown Janet Conley Janice Morisette Tammy Walker

Father's Hands

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