The Bakken Blessing

There has probably been at least a dozen documentaries made about the Oil Boom of North Dakota - the Bakken to be precise.  I have finally quit looking at them because they focus on the negative: crime, road conditions, truck traffic, human traffic, crime, infrastructure, water, bars, prostitution, flares, trains, trucks, and crime.  

This week I had an opportunity to inject my personal opinions about the boom here in Peaceful Valley, North Dakota, when an interviewer (also making a documentary) crashed our Ladies Bible Study to ask our opinions.  

He started with the natives and asked specific questions:

"What changes have you seen here in your peaceful valley?"

"It used to be a sleepy little town.  We knew everybody and their relatives."

"We never locked our doors before, because some neighbor might get caught in a snow storm and need to find shelter in our home.  We lock it now."

"The police chief says there hasn't been a vehicle break-in in a year and only  one house break-in." 

 "It was my house.... a very inebriated man just walked in looking for his friend."

"Have you seen any positive changes?"

"Yes, we have met all these wonderful people from all over the world."

"We have a new grocery store, a new hardware store, new restaurants, new convenience stores.  The school, the hospital, and the city pool are all getting renovations."

"All my children and grandchildren have moved back here because there are jobs available.  We are all together again (except for one grandson who is only 80 miles away."

"I love it here.  I would never move."

Then to us transplants he asked, "What brought you here and what stories have your heard?"

"Well, while North Dakota was in a BOOM, the rest of the nation was BUSTED.  Many, many people came here for a fresh start (and maybe out of desperation) after they lost homes and businesses."

"It has made a difference in the lives of a lot of good people."

"I have been richly blessed. Not just financially but richly blessed by knowing the wonderful people here."

"As for me, I have experienced North Dakota Nice at it finest.  Neighbors have invited us over for our first Thanksgiving away from family.  They brought homemade bread, jelly, rhubarb, beets and garden fresh carrots.  They have helped me rake my yard, used their snow blower on my drive, pulled our stuck truck out of the snow, and helped us pull up a dead tree. Oh, yes, and they stop for you to cross the street."

"I just came for a visit, but when I decided to stay, the ladies at church brought me winter clothes and rounded up furniture for my apartment."

"Have you put down roots here?"

Two said "yes" and my fan club across the room told him that I wasn't going to be allowed to leave.  Ain't that sweet?  My, answer, "North Dakota will always be in my heart."

But the best story came from the mama of five, who came when the logging industry crashed and her man took an entry level job in the oilfield.  They got here in January when the temperature was -22 (that is twenty-two degrees below zero) and lived in a travel trailer (remember, five children) in the city park. A lady in town brought muffins and offered her home, her kitchen, and garage if they ever needed anything.  They showered in the park restrooms. This family lived in the park for two years (in a travel trailer with five children).  They have now purchased a home and a business.  Her husband is climbing the oilfield ladder of success.  She says the ladies Bible studies helped her keep her sanity in those early days in the travel trailer with five children.  And, yes, she is here to stay. 

"One last question.  Since this is a Bible Study, do any of you have a scripture about what is going on here?"

After a long silence, this Texas gal told him about how her man had worked in the same place for 40 years and they had lived in the same house for 40 years and they had done the same things for 40 years.  Then when the opportunity came to work in the Bakken, she ran across a scripture about God talking to his children who had wandered in the wilderness for 40 years.

God said, "You have circled this same mountain long enough.  Now turn north." (Deuteronomy 2:3)

With that, our interviewer snapped off his camera with great flourish, a nod, and a little smile.  "That's exactly what I was looking for."

As he walked out the door, I heard him almost whisper, "North Dakota Nice. I like that."

No Fear

Yesterday I ran across some notes I made a couple of years ago while studying Psalm 91, because sometimes I can get into my Bible study nerd mode.

"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.

Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence."

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge: his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.  You will not fear the terror of night nor the arrow that flies by day, not the pestilence that stalks in the darkness nor the plague that destroys at midday. (Psalms 91:1-6)

Whoa.  Stop.  That's where my notes come in - pestilence - DEADLY PESTILENCE.  What does it that word even mean?  Pestilence.   Webster defines pestilence as a contagious or infectious epidemic disease that is virulent and devastating; specifically: bubonic plague.  Plague is defined as a disease that causes death and spreads quickly to a large number of people.

Then my notes take up with a list of the Top Ten Worst Plagues throughout history. There were quarantines, destruction of infected private property, protective walls built around cities, wars won and lost, and spread through soldiers, merchants and caregivers. Hundreds of thousands of people died in the plagues now thought to be the black plague, bubonic plague, smallpox, measles, and typhus. There were horrors and there were heroes.  And there was fear.

When I was studying this scripture earlier, I was thinking about things like cancer and old age and dementia and Alzheimer's disease.  But if we fast forward to the present, we find Ebola, a definite pestilence plague with it's horrors and heroes and FEAR.  News reports tell more information, some true and some not, than we need to know and the real outbreak just might be FEAR. 

There is a wonderful warm fuzzy quote going around that says something like:

The phrase

"DO NOT FEAR"

is written in the Bible 365 times

That's a daily reminder to live 

every day being fearless

While I was counting the scriptures, to check the validity of that statement, I came across someone who had already done the math.  Just as I suspected, the quote is not true. But even if God had said it only once, wouldn't it be enough for every day of the year? Just once. Some other clever, creative Bible study nerd made a more correct sign.  You can go to her blog to download and print it.  I like it.

Click here to download and print 

President Franklin D. Roosevelt said

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

God said,

"DO NOT FEAR."

The guide at the Hjemkost Center in Moorhead, Minnesota, said the Scandinavian builders of the original stave church used more Christian symbols than Viking symbols, indicating they were growing in their trust of God instead of dragons to protect them from evil spirits. No Fear.

She also said that people infected with the plague, would have stood outside in the passageway, hungry for the word of God, and listen through the small window in the sanctuary.  Fear Not.

God has not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7)  Fear Not.

To keep the fear beat back, read Psalm 91 again and see that God says that not fearing comes from living in the shelter of the Most High, resting in His shadow, telling Him that you trust Him, hiding under His wings, and the result will be that He will save you, be your shield and you WILL NOT FEAR the deadly pestilence or the plague.  

It's a command not a suggestion.  

FEAR NOT

We'll Never Forget

In a prominent place in a cemetery in the next closest town, is a 9/11 memorial to a North Dakota daughter who was employed and perished in the World Trade Center. That town will never forget.  North Dakota will never forget. Texas will never forget. Our nation will never forget, nor will the world.  

Our own daughter, Heather, also left this world on 9/11, but the year was 1996.  Eighteen years ago.  She was 18 years old.  She has been gone as long as she was here.  Cystic Fibrosis took her much to young, but we got to keep her longer than we ever imagined when she was diagnosed at birth.

We will never forget her dreams and hopes and plans.  We'll never forget those mischievous eyes cutting over at us or her easy laugh. We'll never forget how everything held in her hands became animated at her bidding, even when she was 18. And we wish her niece and nephew could have played silverware puppets with her at the dinner table.  

We'll never forget her dolls and tea parties and stuffed animals with IV's in their puffy little arms and oxygen tubes taped to their button noses.  We'll never forget that her doctor called her "Heather Feather".  I remember that one time she said that she didn't really want God to heal her because that would mean she couldn't go to "CF Camp" anymore.  She loved that camp.

We'll never forget that she loved and worked with our little community theater for 5 years. We'll never forget that she drove a little sport car with a handicapped tag in the window, and she had a scholarship and had started her college classes.  We'll never forget that she studied art and left us a portfolio full of framable masterpieces. We'll never forget that she thought it was better her than her sister have that disease.

Maybe we'll have a footlong cheese coney from Sonic, or a dip of Blue Bell Rainbow Sherbert, or a Victoria's filet from Outback in her memory.  Or maybe we'll just remember,

because we will never forget.

Grandma's Getting Younger!

Grey-haired Grandma's almost sixty,

And she's fat and wide!

But Grandma bought a bicycle,

And you should see her ride!

Dishes might be in the sink,

and the furniture undusted - 

But there she goes on her bicycle,

This Grandma that we trusted!

Can't find her home to babysit,

Or borrow a cup of flour;

For there she goes, out riding again, 

Hour after hour after hour!

Sailing along on a bright spring day

or a balmy summer eve,

When the weather's nice, one thing you know

Grandma's sure to leave.

Of course we failed to mention,

"two-wheelers" she can not ride:

So we should call hers a tricycle,

With two back wheels, side by side.

At first she huffed and puffed along,

And couldn't go very far;

But now she speeds along as though

She's hitched her cycle to a star.

People look, and people laugh,

But Grandma doesn't care!

In fact she thinks they envy her,

Because they simply do not dare!

So if some day, far down the road

You see a cloud of dust,

Don't worry, it's just Grandma,

Coming home because she must!

(Now, for the rest of the story.  Since I've been in North Dakota, I've been on a rummage sale bicycle buying frenzy.  The first one was only five dollars, but I couldn't talk "Grandpa" into fixing the flats - so it was repurposed with red paint and geraniums. It's flat-tired partner got donated somewhere. The next bargain was a matching pair that had been left to winter outside and had, I suspect, rusty gears.  But I rode mine anyway.  I rode all over town.  I rode to the Post Office, and to the Grocery Store, and to the Park, and to church, and, and, and.  It had a basket and I have hauled everything from paint to pickles in it.  Then the next one was a beauty contest winner - a vintage replica cruiser with a pearl paint job and a wicker basket.  But when I started riding it, Papa decided I was going kill my wobbly self, so he found the three wheeler and bought it for me.  Now our garage is full...I mean FULL of cycles! Last week, he came home from a Norwegian Grandma's estate sale down the street with an armload of treasures and a poem. Grandma's bicycle was there, but not yet for sale. He hadn't read all of the poem until he got home and oh, mercy me.  You could have probably heard our howls and belly laughs all the way to Texas! So please, please read this little Norsky poem, author unknown, printed in my neck of the North Dakota prairie in another century.)

"Whenever I see an adult on a bicycle,

 I have hope for the human race."

(H.G. Wells)

Why We Endure Winter in the North

Two reasons:

Fields of canola

Fields of flax

Trip of a Lifetime

Papa said, "Let's send him on a trip. One he will love. One where he can make a difference. One he will never forget."  Well, those weren't Papa's exact words, but that was the end result.  

This grandma volunteered as the chaperone (as in "Me. Me. Choose ME! Can I go? PleasePleasePlease.") because I am crazy about my grandkids and I love mission trips.  We would go to Guatemala, stay with his other Mimi and Pawpaw, (His Appointed Time Ministries) who had left West Texas when he was a month old to follow God's call.  

From the beginning we dubbed it, Harrison's Mission Trip.  He suggested we bring stuffed animals and candy for the children, and Spanish Language Bibles for the adults.  We agreed that we would just do whatever Mimi and Papaw did every day and not expect to be entertained.  When we finally got packed, we had two 50 pound suitcases full of donated beanie babies, childrens' shoes, and Bibles. 

 Of course, the baggage handlers inspected and let the air out of all our babies' ziplocked travelling bags.  I had even labeled the bags so anyone with questions would know their purpose.  I'm sure they were glad to get out and stretch their stiff little arms and legs!

Upon arrival, we got busy putting together gift bags of animals, coloring books, crayolas, candy and cookies. I think we made about 500 gift bags.

 We went to Gerizim Christian School , which is supported by Mimi and Papaw and their many supporters,

and to three government schools that have very few resources for the children.

At the government schools, we were not only welcomed, but actually honored by the village leaders at one school.  They brought cake and orange drink as a thank you for the gifts of that day, for the clean water system being installed by this ministry, and for Papaw's regular delivery of food and vitamins for the children. 

We stopped for children in the villages and on the streets to bless them with a little something.  It's not much to our children in the U.S., 

 but who knows what kind of homelife these beautiful children have.  

We delivered food and Bibles.

Those appreciative faces say it all!

Harrison help build a couple of clean burning stoves in homes with open pit barrels for cook stoves.

And of course he had some great conversations with his Mimi.

It was a trip he loved.  It was a trip where he made a difference.  It was a trip he will never forget.

It was a trip I loved.  It was a trip where I hope I made a difference.  It was a trip I will never forget. It was a trip of a lifetime.

And this is another teenager, in another decade, with another group of non-English speaking children. We were at Socorro, Texas, on the banks of the Rio Grande River, the Mexican border in 196?.  Yes, it is me, a hundred lifetimes ago.

 My memory is somewhat blurred about everything we did there, but I suppose they snagged my heart way back then.  I hope we made a difference.

Billy Graham has said, "The greatest legacy one can pass on to one's grandchildren is not money or other material things accumulated in one's life, but rather a legacy of character and faith."  That is the legacy we are trying to pass on.

For those of you who contributed to his cause, Harrison and I thank you, thank you, thank you.  Thank you for giving to the Lord.