Have you ever caught the news and a story stands out to you? I had that experience May of 2017. There was a bus accident in Tanzania that killed nearly everyone on the bus; 32 kids, 2 teachers and the bus driver. 12-13 year olds on their way to another school to take an exam.
The image and the story ‘stuck’ in my heart for days if not weeks. I prayed for those who mourned and slowly the story faded from my memory until a few months ago. I met a man who was interviewing for our new board of directors for a non-profit I have been blessed to be a founder of. He mentioned this story asking if I’d ever heard about it. A story that happened 7 years earlier far away in a country I’ve never seen and hardly knew my geography enough to know where in Africa Tanzania actually was. The memory was clearly awakened, and I was grateful to hear ‘the rest of the story’ and it is miraculous! Three children lived and that journey from the bus to healing is told beautifully in the book by the Founder of this STEMM organization I traveled to visit and serve with.
This week on the way to the Ngorongoro Crater we stopped at the crash site where they built a memorial and it made this long-ago news story come even more to life seeing the drop from the highway and the miracle that anyone survived.
The Memorial at the site of the bus accident
Even now as I recall the site I want to cry for the many that mourned the loss of those beautiful children. The children are now 20 years old and last year were reunited with the president of Tanzania and you can see them with her and Dr. Steve
Dr. Steve, Wilson, President Samia Hassan, Doreen and Sadhia
God knew that news story would play a role in my future and one day I would travel to Tanzania and be blessed to offer mental health services. I was honored to speak with the Mommas in the community as well as meet with a local clinic staff and their health committee who are now open to starting mental health education and services to their community.
Holding my red bag representing my tribal mental health center back in Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin. Dr. Hamisi, Health board, Daniel Laizer STEMM community/program Director The Beautiful Mommas
This trip I met a team of film makers who traveled here to start the process of making the Miracle Kids story into a movie!
Not every news story will be God’s call for me (or you) to serve but is a call to pray. Only twice have I experienced this; seeing a Haitian earthquake on the news brought me to Haiti and a buscrash led to me sitting here on my last day in Tanzania.
I am no one special. Only someone who has ‘answered His call’. I am forever changed because of the many experiences and friendships I have been honored to have while here.
I hope to return, God willing! I will be forever grateful to know that a ‘random’ news story may just happen to be the start of a journey to be blessed in ways I could never imagine!
My outdoor ‘office’ where Dr. Simba and I met with people suffering with mental health symptoms on day 2 of the outreach.
First Impressions. I’ve decided it is the smile. I’ve also concluded all Tanzanians even those here from neighboring countries are all beautiful people.
BiBi Rose. “Gramma” Rose graciously and carefully makes my bed to her standard, rolls back the mosquito netting on my bed and mops the floor- daily. When I met BiBi Rose, she embraced me in Tanzanian style, held my hands and prayed a beautiful prayer in Swahili. Though I didn’t understand a word I could see her heart through her beautiful smile. I am so grateful God can hear our prayers in every language!
More smiles…meet Gee and Ali who both take excellent care of us all here at STEMM.
So many more I’d love for you to meet!
Tanzania offers amazing colors and sounds and tastes to fill my every sense!
Wide load!What a treat, better than a hammock especially since I can only use my left hand!Pregnancy Testing RoomSome supplies in the delivery room A slightly wrong turn brought us over this homemade bridge thankfully Gee held my hand. (Nurse Kim is ahead of me in this pic.) This picture view didn’t show that a fall for me there would involve another brace I’m certain! See below for more info…
I’ve had opportunity to meet with mothers in the NICU and in the OB at a local hospital where they are loving and caring for their babies all born premature to talk about mental health and pray with them. This morning I had an impromptu meeting with a group of patients at a local clinic sharing mental health education with my friend Gee as my interpreter.
Mosquito bites remain my enemy. Gee just said, “Good thing they don’t have malaria”. I have to agree!
I also discovered that stepping down from a high jeep can be hazardous to my health and apparently one of the many little bones in my wrist. Ouch!
Looking forward to more experiences more colors and sounds and definitely more Tanzanian smiles.
This breezy Wisconsin morning I heard, “This wind is bringing a season of change”. It was referencing the earth’s tilt, the arriving shorter hours of daylight and this wind that messages to wildlife to start their preparation for the next season.
At the same time I heard a different meaning to the words… a season of change. In my six decades I have experienced seasons of change and I haven’t always appreciated the forced new season before me. I have also experienced times of seasonal changes that brought great joy, peace and a new purpose – which is my preferred seasonal change IF the choice is mine.
So often we equate a season of change with major life events like the unexpected tragic injury or death of a loved one or an unplanned move that uproots the stability you’ve grown to love. Daily I hear the true stories of many who’ve walked into a new season of pain and loss brought to them by the choices of their loved ones or their own unintentional poor choice.
Born looking at life as always seeing a glass half-full and not half-empty.
Matcha tea can be half-full also!
Today I am choosing to see the upcoming seasons of change in a positive light for me and for you. We NEED to find the good in every season and for some of us it is easier to see the glass half-full and for some it is more difficult to find the ‘ray of sunshine’ on a cloudy stormy day.
Is it truly possible to find peace, joy and purpose when it seems the world is falling apart? When you hear of wars and rumors of wars? When people call evil good and good evil?
We can! It is possible if you know that this earthly life is not all there is. There is an eternity waiting for me and you! Jesus has prepared a place for me where I can live in eternal glass half-full perfect joy.
Until I breath my final earthly breath this side of heaven I have to trust that my Creator wisely chose the day of my birth and has called me to remain on this earth exactly where He asked me to be and exactly at this place in time to accomplish all that He has prepared for me.
I am no one special. It is the Creator’s Spirit within me that defines me. Forgiven. Redeemed. Saved. A new creation.
Am I ready for the next season of change whatever it is? Nope. Thankfully I am fully confident that my God and Creator Jesus is preparing me and preparing the path before me and HE is in control of the next season I will walk into.
The Lord says, “I know the plan I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. Jeremiah 29:11
A couple weeks ago I read a true story and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
To live in a land where the leader declares all baby boys from your culture and race should be drowned. I cannot stop thinking about a mother who defied this and thankfully the midwives from their community defied this as well.
I pondered on how the details of this story and imagined….
The labor pains ended as the final push rushed her new baby into the arms of her midwife. She didn’t need to ask when she looked into the eyes of her midwife; the look was not of joy but of fear and they both knew the danger her newborn was now in.
The midwife slowly lifted up this beautiful baby boy into the loving arms of his mother.
“Jo” had a son. This is also why Jo kept her pregnancy hidden uncertain if she would have a daughter allowed to live or a son who was required to be drowned at birth. This barbaric rule would never be followed by Jo nor her midwife yet it would only be a matter of time before this secret would be known.
Jo nursed her baby and his big sister kissed her baby brother lingering as though she was thinking she may not have time to love him forever. Big sister was old enough to know the hateful rule given to their people and mature enough to run errands and keep their secret safe.
They trusted the God of their fathers yet cautious to mask the baby’s cries with other sounds and noises day and night. Weeks passed until Jo’s beautiful son was 12 weeks old and it became clear her baby’s cries and presence could no longer be hidden. She had to make a decision. Jo looked upon her son with her mother’s heart and cried praying to the God of her fathers for direction, a sign…anything. The reality is she would give her life to save her son yet also aware of what could happen to them all should this defiant choice become known. Jo rocked and nursed her baby as her older daughter knelt beside them both aware her mother was nearing a time to make a decision that would potentially change their lives forever.
Jo glanced around the room seeing the papyrus basket she had woven years earlier when her daughter was born. Her son was sleeping soundly now in his sister’s arms as Jo began to work quickly and thoughtfully uncertain of how this would end but somehow certain she now knew exactly what she had to do. So grateful her husband had finished making the tar he used to waterproof the boats their master’s used to float on the river. She began to coat the woven basket so that that water would find no opening. Jo’s mind recalled a childhood story of a much larger boat that saved an entire family and two of every animal during the time of the great flood now hoping it wouldn’t rain anytime soon.
It was time. Jo and her first born carefully timed their journey to the river when baby was dreaming peacefully. Jo laid him carefully into the basket, wrapped him in a cloth that carried her aroma hoping it would help him to continue to sleep for however long his journey took. Jo held onto the basket as long as she dared releasing him to float among the reeds holding her empty arms outstretched seemingly offering her baby to the God of her fathers believing he would somehow… live.
Jo asked her daughter to follow along the river as long as she could see him. Her daughter watched as the current took the basket straight into the waters and reeds where the King’s daughter spent time and known to swim and bathe. The sounds of cries began to emerge from her brother’s basket and she saw that the ruler’s daughter could hear it directing her attendants to bring the basket to her. She watched as this woman opened the basket and laid eyes on her brother, crying and wrapped in the cloth of her mother with material that would be known to be from her people.
She knew this woman had the power to end her brother’s life yet watched as the King’s daughter gently picked up her baby brother and held him as if she immediately somehow loved him.
Jo returned with empty arms to their home unable to follow her son’s tiny ark unaware of the scene unfolding before her daughter and the King’s daughter.
Jo wanted to trust the God of her fathers while longing for her arms to hold her son once again. She could hear his cries as though he was not far away certain it must the echoes of the cries she has known for the three months embedded within her heart. Jo could not believe her eyes when the door flew open seeing her first born holding her son. He was crying for his mother and her nourishment unaware of the brief journey he just took that brought him back to his mother. Jo was informed of what happened and knew her time with him would be until he was weaned as he now would be the adopted son of the king’s daughter. Jo cried tears of joy knowing her son would live and that her prayers were heard and answered. The God of her fathers was her God and the God of her children.
Months passed and Jo knew he would soon be weaned and leave their family. Jo’s heart ached yet different now as she was so certain her son would have a life that would forever be watched over by her God knowing there was a plan and a purpose for her son. And Pharoah’s daughter loved and adopted him and named him Moses.
As tomorrow is Mother’s Day I think of Jochebed aka “Jo” and I think of my own two mothers. Each were faced with decisions that would have changed the course of my life. The first mother saw her children taken away and had to choose to fight the system or trust I and my brother went into a safe and healthy family. The second mother who picked me up had the choice of adopting and loving me and raising me as her own, and did. Both of my mothers followed their mother’s heart and my life has been blessed because of it.
These stories are true; mine and Jochebeds. You can read what I read in Exodus 2 for the details we were given for the one story. You can ask me for any details of my story as most know my life is an open book!
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers and the women with mother’s hearts who love the ones who enter your life.
And yes, Happy Mother’s Day to my two mothers-one in the presence of our Lord and Savior and the one hanging out and still driving around in Lac du Flambeau, 91 years young!
People gathering together to grow in our faith in Jesus
The Gathering exists for the Lac du Flambeau Ojibwe community. Lac du Flambeau has a beautiful blend of Native people representing a number of tribes and cultural ‘blends’. Many grew up in ‘the church’ whether going to Sunday school, VBS or both. Some attended a Presbyterian church, some attended the “little white church” or the local Catholic church. My 91 year old mother recalled recently, “When I was little a bus picked us kids up and when I got to the church I remember a nice lady saying, “Hi Betty, how are you doing today? I remember thinking how odd that was because no one had ever talked to me like that before; asking me… how I was doing”. Another friend shared her memory who is currently around a decade younger than my mom recalling at the little Baptist church when there would be church picnics with many families with kids of all ages “playing games and the parents hanging out together. Those kids are all parents now and many even grandparents”.
These local churches are no longer filled with Native families gathering for picnics, Sunday school and VBS at least not from my viewpoint. A few brave Natives drive into the neighboring town and attend mostly non-Native churches. Thankfully there is the Foundation church that brings their bus into LdF picking up 5-10 year olds Wednesdays for an hour of Bible teaching, food and fun hoping seeds of God’s love and truth are being planted into their hearts.
I believe God has a plan for something new.
“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19
I believe Jesus has opened the way for The Gathering in LdF; a place within the Lac du Flambeau reservation for Native men and women to gather and learn of our Savior and Creator, Jesus Christ. A place to ask any question and discover God’s answer. A safe place to gather to be nourished with food for the body and to find nourishment for the soul. A place to learn of God’s amazing story. A place to have your burdens shared and prayed for believing God hears and answers. God is raising up Native believers in Jesus who will lead the way for Natives to hear the truth from ‘one of their own’.
I am an Ojibwe who was adopted and raised by Stockbridge Mohican WWII veterans who followed the Creator and Savior, Jesus. I attended a church on the edge of the reservation. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, Wednesday nights, and VBS. My Native father was a church elder who sometimes preached and the visiting pastors seemed to always eat at our house after church. I would hear my mom singing hymns all day as she worked around the house and garden and I played piano from a young age when the pastor could only choose the hymns I had already learned to play whether or not they went with his message. I sang in the church choir before I could read well. I recall our kids and youth group visited the local mental health facility singing to many, whose families stopped visiting, though now I do recall as a little girl I was a bit afraid of the ‘different’ people and how they loved to embrace and touch me now knowing the innocent love they shared with me.
My identity is as a Christ-following Native American who has never doubted I was created in the image of God. I have no memory of not knowing Jesus. I have always believed He created me eventually learning exactly how when I read David’s words,
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made…” Psalm 139: 13.
I was so grateful to write these words in the first card I gave for Mother’s day after meeting the mom who carried me within her- the mom who chose to give me life.
I have known great loss and great love. I have made large mistakes and battled guilt and regret always knowing of God’s great love and forgiveness because of Jesus and His sacrifice on the cross for my sins that were many. I am still so imperfect and still so amazed that God only sees me through the lens of Jesus though my sins were as scarlet Jesus death and resurrection has made them white as snow.
The Gathering at LdF exists for others like me who seemed to never fit easily into one culture group; too Native for one or too white for another. Being half Native was fun when as a kid I thought I could identify with Cher when she sang, “half-breed” still to this day I don’t know if that was just a song on the Sonny and Cher show or if that had any measure of truth. I once wanted to travel to New York area with a group that was visiting the Stockbridge-Mohican homeland. A friend jokingly said I wasn’t allowed to go because it wasn’t MY homeland and I should visit my own. I laughed but inside I really did wonder, ‘where is my homeland’? My roots. Chicago where I was born or Lac du Flambeau where my tribal ID is from? England, Ireland or Denmark where my non-Native roots began from my father’s side? I just recently heard from my mom and confirmed from my aunt that I also have roots in France from my great great (one more great?) grampa who came from France into Canada who met a beautiful Native Ojibwe daughter of a tribal chief … or so the story goes.
Talk about identity issues! Should I say, “Bon jour” as the French or “Boozhoo” as the Ojibwe though actually my favorite is, “Bon Jou” in Creole to great my Haitian friends. Do my clothes and jewelry define me as Native? Does sterling silver with a touch of turquoise make me more Native or wearing beaded jewelry a better representative of my Ojibwe ‘half’? I have beaded flag earrings which could make me more American and sterling silver cross earrings I bought at our local Bear River powwow which looks Native and Christian, right? Just a few days ago I was choosing which earrings to wear to The Gathering Sunday evening which would also be there for when I attended the non-Native church I attend on Sunday mornings when Jesus -through His Holy Spirit- made it clear to my heart that He does not look at the outside to define my identity but rather is looking at my heart. My identity is within me, not on my earrings or my clothes or which near-French or Ojibwe greeting I choose to say. My heart… I am a child of God. My homeland is heaven, and I will travel there one day!
The Gathering at Lac du Flambeau is for the Ojibwe Native for full-bloods and half-bloods, card carrying tribal members or those who are a mix of many tribes and nations with or without a ‘card’ to prove it. The doors are open to all. We will love you and accept you. Do you need see a pathway through your wilderness? Do you need to see rivers in your dry wasteland? Join us. We will hear your story, your heart and your questions. We will pray for you, sing with you and love you knowing you too were created in the image of God, woven together in your mother’s womb and hopefully believing God has a plan for you!
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope”. Jeremiah 29:11
These spring buds are from the spring of last year as this year’s spring hasn’t fully sprung but it’s showing signs that it is coming! We are coming out of the weirdest winter I have experienced through the many winters I’ve already walked (or slid) through. Not having the traditional ‘white Christmas’ doesn’t feel right but somehow this year I embraced this reality and even experienced some time grounding in my snow-less yard. I did it for the abundance of electrons our Creator has wisely placed in the earth and to say that I did and for the left foot photo op.
Yes. In my yard and yes it was still SO cold!
I am still looking forward to spring but it’s not the longggging need for spring that I sometimes experience after a long, cold and snowy winter. I found it interesting that I have talked to many that felt “off” having the mild ‘winter of ’23-24’. I think it fits the times in which we are living having many things feeling “off” to me.
Thankfully I am confident in the Creator who placed the stars in the sky and who created the seasons. Today happens to be Easter defining the basis for my faith in knowing what Jesus did for us all. I know many are gathering with family, eating amazing food with many children eating loads of sugar that was delivered by a random very large and fast bunny to every house in the night somehow able to hide the basket (or not) for the children who are excited to see what the Easter bunny brought unaware of the sadness of their pancreas as it prepares to process the overload of sweetness (sorry-that’s the nurse in me).
I am excited to see what this next season brings-not just spring but thinking of the season of life I happen to be in. I cannot change or control these changing times or the weather, but I can continue to trust the Creator who made me and who is in control when life can seem so off…so painful…so uncertain for so many. In this moment I will close and pray for me, for you, for my family, and for those who do not yet know how much they are loved by the Creator and Savior.
You are loved. You are not alone. You have worth. The Creator loves you! Press On!!
Defined: To jump right in, specifically referring to jumping in to ice cold oceans, Great lakes and little lakes and ice-cold pools. Like Sandy does.
May I introduce… Sandy. My high school classmate that allowed me to see what it’s like to fully live and love every moment INCLUDING the frigid waters on the beautiful shores on the east coast of Australia. My sad reality is that 4 years ago I refused to feel the discomfort of a few moments of freezing waves splashing against me and I chose instead to take photos of Sandy running and jumping into the waves, screaming from the cold and laughing and smiling in the joy of the moment. Yes. I missed it. Because it was too cold.
I most likely will never again be on the shores of these beautiful ‘down under’ beaches and I chose comfort over a temporary numbing water temperature. Not Sandy. With all her encouragement I still declined, she didn’t complain she just turned and ran right in.
This year I discovered the amazing healing benefits of something called Cold Therapy. It’s when a person chooses to immerse themselves into cold water; ice filled bathtub, lakes or OCEANS. Are you kidding. This is a thing? I missed actual healing benefits of choosing to be ice cold, like Sandy. Well, that changes everything. I am going to attempt to be more like Sandy, I’m jumping in. And I have! Three times so far! Yes, SO crazy cold and SO kind of adventurously fun!
Just two days ago I chose to swim into the ice cold water of L. Superior for me yet somehow I needed to. For Sandy.
SuAnne in L. Superior doing the Sandy Challenge
You see Sandy is now facing the greatest challenge of her life as she returns to her Australian home down under without her husband of 28 years by her side. Their future plans, their dreams of growing old together abruptly and tragically ended just a few days before Sandy’s 60th birthday. Never could they have imagined their usual summer trip to Wisconsin while winter in Australia would be his final journey beside his wife, his “Sunshine”….Sandy.
I am praying daily for Sandy. For her journey home, for her healing, for the stages of grief she is now forced to walk through. Though she may have the most supportive family. Though she definitely has the coolest class of ’81 and ’60 and Fabulous’ group of classmates she will still have to walk through this deeply painful journey.
Sandy, please keep walking, please keeping jumping into those ice cold Australian or Wisconsin waters. Keep living.
Today, you turned 60 and it’s so hard to say “Happy Birthday” because happy just doesn’t seem right or fair to you today. I can say that I am so grateful that 60 years ago you were gifted to this world and I am so grateful you introduced me to “jumping in” to not missing the moments to realizing that the blood and warmth does eventually return to your legs!
Much love and so many prayers for Sandy as she walks into this next year of her life…. forever changed.
Your friend and a surviving member of the ‘Grieving Women’ and current member of the ’60 and Fabulous Club’ you just joined!
The setting was not a traditional medical environment full of sterile floors and the usual sanitized scents and smells. This nurse was serving her patient in a home with carpet, homemade quilts, photos of family and familiar, healing scents of life and love.
This nurse was volunteering her skills away from the medical facility she would be paid to work at because her priority for these recent weeks has been for the one she has called Grandma for her whole life.
I watched this nurse be the sweet and smiling grand-daughter tenderly care for her grandma and transition quickly to become the nurse when the situation warranted.
These are not the only two roles this nurse walks in as she is also a beautiful mother and wife. Her children’s Great Grandma is ill…really sick. Great Grandma isn’t playing peek-a-boo anymore, she’s sleeping a lot… Questions from small children are asked and need to be answered in a way they can understand and learn to accept as too soon they will be left with memories and photos and the stories about Grandma they hear from others.
This nurse has a strength that must have been passed down to her from her Grandma as she competently exists in multiple roles often all at once. I watched her guiding others to offer nursing- level care while holding her youngest in her arms, answering calls from family miles and states away to allow them a moment to speak final words of love to their aunt or sister…her Grandma. She tenderly explained the physical signs and current stage of death she is daily being a witness to. She has the knowledge, experience and words to eloquently describe what certainly must be breaking this grand-daughter’s heart.
There were only brief times I could see the physical and emotional exhaustion; eyes welling up with tears reflecting the deep heart ache of daily seeing life slowly leave her children’s Great Grandma … her sisters’ Grandma… her Grandma.
Yes, this will be the final spring for her usually spry, organized, giving, stubbornly-independent and active 92 year old Grandma.
I am inspired, I am grateful and I am thanking God. Yes, I met a nurse today and her name is Danielle.
I can talk to people everyday and those who know me or see me on social media see that I am pretty skilled at selfies. To look back and see me chat for nearly a half an hour is just weird. To see my facial expressions, my expressive eyes and head tilts just made me chuckle. In the end I can’t be anyone but who I am and today this is me all 60 years of me!
I tried to convince a young grand-daughter yesterday that when you reach this age you get to choose how old you want to be and I might choose to be 50 again. She seemed mildly confused but willing to go with it if had forced the issue. As much as I’d love to consider a different and younger year I wouldn’t give up all the growth and lessons learned though, honestly, some of the more painful ones I’d prefer to not have walked through. Still, I hang on to everything and everyone that played a role in helping me be who I am this day, Dec. 23, 2022.
Today, Ashley Hart played a part in opening a fun door and I am finding this podcasting thing as way more meaningful and fun-even more than the best selfie- which in the end only serves to promote me and…yes I did take a couple pics while we were setting up.
I was nearly 20 when my mom was 60 and she lived nearly four more decades! Should I be so blessed I too may live a few more decades. For those who know my story my beautiful mother Betty remains fully alive and nearing 90. Through nature and nurture I am destined to be around for awhile!
Happy Birthday to my oldest grandson who was born 11 years ago on my birthday! He has a little of my personality which I take great credit for. Sorry, so hard to not just be me!
Blessing on your day, on YOUR birthday whenever it falls and in this Christmas season which gives meaning to all that I am, my purpose and my eternal destiny.
We all have a story. My greatest privilege is to sit across from someone and hear their story. Whether they are sitting across from me in my office or across a table of pizza sitting at a cute Italian pizza place, that I often sit at (ahem….Bambinos) I love to hear where a person came from, highs and lows, joys and pains and what lessons were learned along the way.
I have had the great honor of hearing the story of someone who just recently threw their hat into the ring as a write-in for Lincoln County Sheriff. As a daughter of veterans I tend to gravitate toward anyone who served our country knowing they certainly live with a sense of honor and loyalty to our country and to the citizens who call our land home.
So often a person’s story is so full of drama that I imagine it could truly be made into a movie. Only once have I actually met someone who was literally offered a script and a contract for their story. I read the script and it was full of drama for sure as only Hollywood can do. This veteran and gentleman put family first and declined the fame and fortune. That movie would have ended when this veteran and sheriff was 33 years old with 15 years of service already in. I met his beautiful wife who is more than willing to support her husband as he desires to walk back into the world of law enforcement to support and protect the people of Lincoln county.
Thankfully Marlyn Woodward has lived a few more chapters in his life story and has continued to be a voice for veterans and for the citizens of any community he has chosen to live in.
We all have a story. Some parts (or scenes) we wish could be edited out but every moment every experience good or bad, joy or pain, right or wrong has shaped us to be the person we are today.
These are some difficult times that we are living in. A lot of anger and negativity. We need brave people who are willing to speak up and face the darkness head-on. I found one! Yep, I met him, sat across from him and his wife sharing a tasty pizza and I heard his story, the whole story, edited scenes and all and he gets my vote.
This November I will be writing in Woodward for Sheriff casting my vote for a veteran, husband, father, and grampa who is willing to use all the wisdom he has gained along the way fully confident he will speak the truth and push for positive change.
For Such a Time As This 