There were no voice recorders in the 1500s, so we don’t know whether Luther really said it or whether it is simply attributed to him, but here’s the quote so many love, “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” It is a hope-filled statement of defiance in the face of certain hopelessness. It would look foolish to the world. But… it is also an act of faith. That even amidst a ‘world going to pieces’ there will be a time when apples will come in handy.

May is one of my favorite months. My daughter Sarah was born this month; Mothers Day and my anniversary are this month. People are enjoying the outdoors, grilling, playing in their yards, walking, running and having graduation parties. Just a year ago, Perry and I had two weddings to attend and a graduation of a niece. We usually find time in May to camp for the first time in Bayfield, WI, with my brother and sister-in-law. This is usually a great month to connect with people and enjoy the outdoors.

April 12, 2020, those words were from my heart. April 22, 2020, and they still are heartfelt. I have been awed by so many people who are loving their way through this unprecedented time. I think of my grandparents often, members of what is called the Greatest Generation. I wonder what they would say and think and do. I think they would be afraid but would pull on their experiences of war and tell us we do this thing together, it is the only way. We pull together, we encourage each other through the fear and we sacrifice things we never considered sacrificing—like our ability to move freely around the world, our vanity, our wealth or our way of life.

It hit me Wednesday night, March 11, as I was going to bed. I was ‘checking the scores’ of the night’s NBA basketball games when I saw the league had “suspended” the regular season because of COVID-19. I thought, “if a multi-billion dollar business thinks it’s in their best interest to shut it all down, then we’re all going to have to shut it all down. Even the church!”

It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I already miss all of you so much. My heart aches to be with you, to hear your voices and your laughter, to have our hugs and our conversations while enjoying coffee. I really miss our worshipping together, the singing, the prayers and our being together worshipping our God.

There have been few moments of quiet in my life of late. Time for reflection is squeezed into the drive home or at the end of the day before I fall asleep. In the normal course of things, this time between Christmas and Lent lends itself well for deeper reflection and intention setting, but alas, that was not the case for 2020. As a result, I find myself craving, needing, time to be still and to wonder and remember and grow. Which has me reaching for the book we read last Lent, Holy Solitude: Lenten Reflections with Saints, Hermits, Prophets and Rebels by Rev. Heidi Havercamp. Holy solitude is exactly what my spirit is clamoring for and what better time (other than the “quiet” season after Epiphany) to carve out time for this than Lent?

With spring just around the corner, at least that’s what I’m hoping. It’s time in the Midwest to tumble out of our houses from the long winter. As soon as the weather warms up, even a few degrees, we begin walking, running, biking and even working in the lawn, just to be outside. Children begin to play in the streets, shooting basketballs or playing soccer. It’s just a wonderful time of year, when we begin to see our neighbors once more.

Within a year of being ordained in 2003, I was asked to lead a conversation among my 3-point parish about sexuality. I was a 26 year old newlywed still learning how to preach, read a budget and drive around Cashton without hitting any Amish buggies. I had no idea how to tackle such a controversial topic. So… I jumped in head first. Mostly because I, myself, wasn’t sure where I landed within the whole conversation. About twenty people of all ages and gender gathered multiple times to study a resource together that walked us through Scripture, tradition and the actual experiences of human beings. I learned a lot about the potential of a Christian congregation through those gatherings. I learned a lot about God. And I learned a lot about myself.

After my surgery in November, I felt so welcomed and loved by all those who greeted me the following Sunday. I received hugs and lots of whispered “You’re in our prayers.” It was so nice to be welcomed in such a loving and meaningful way. I cannot express my gratitude enough for the prayers and “you got this, girl” that I heard from so many of my church family.


I went to a conference last month in the Twin Cities to hear Brian McLaren talk about change in the church. In just a few hours he rattled off quite a few memorable lines. For example, “There are two kinds of pain: the pain of change and the pain of not changing.” The claim, of course, is that pain is inescapable. Because nothing stays the same. “So, we have to decide: what kind of pain do we want to experience?” This was not a conference for the faint of heart!

It is no secret that my happy place is Disneyland. It is one of the places I still make sure I visit when I go to California. A few weeks ago I was gifted with a book called “Disney Devotionals”. I was so excited! The theology is a little off, but it did help me reflect a little about my recent visit to Disney and life, particularly a life of faith.

If we members of First Lutheran actually believe we change lives, how do we do more of that? Our staff, vision and leadership team and a task force sat with that question for a while and came up with a few ideas. All the ideas are rooted in sharing stories that explain how it is true: that First Lutheran is a transformative institution where lives get changed. And so we created videos and framed posters and posted content to social media that all said “We Change Lives…” through Stephen Ministry, Lutheran World Hunger, Youth Ministry, a Green Team and and much more. We also thought it would be smart to not just ask for money, but to invite everyone into something special. Not every church has its focus on serving the neighbor, caring for creation and worshipping God. Some churches are simply about self-preservation. First Lutheran holds a unique place in the religious landscape of our community. All are welcome. All are encouraged to lead, in fact. And all questions are allowed.

Last month, we were invited to change lives through the many ministries we do here at First Lutheran. The ministries highlighted are so very important to those in our congregation and in the world. I would also like to invite you to change lives in simple ways within our narthex. Our narthex during the program year is abuzz with activity and people of all ages. The energy in our narthex amazes me. We have so many people coming and going, making connection with one another ,but there are even more who are not and feeling a bit lost within the hub of activity in our narthex.

It has been a big year for the First Teen Clothes Closet! We have been in our new location at Trinity Lutheran Church for just over a year, and in that year we have served more than 275 individual teens from at least 24 area middle schools and high schools through our Monday night shopping hours, private appointments and the annual Trinity Lutheran Church block party and shoe distribution. (The shoe distribution alone set more than 170 teens up for the school year with a pair of new shoes).

It’s so easy to forget someone’s name. I can forget a name as soon as the person walks away after telling me their name two minutes before. I can forget a name of someone I’ve known for years. Sometimes I can remember a spouse’s name but not the one I’m talking to. I can remember the kids’ names but not the parents and vise versa. It just happens; the name disappears somewhere into my brain, sometimes never to return.

What’s your favorite part of being a member at First Lutheran? This is a question I ask often. And I have heard a variety of answers ranging from a person’s favorite ministry program, to the work we do together in the world. But the most common, agreed-upon value we share seems to be something we say every week at worship. As a way of inviting everyone to the communion rail, Pastor Karyn or I say, “ALL are welcome, to this the LORD’S table.”